But she was not vexed with Nina,
and running out to meet her, she laid her arm across her neck, and
led her with many words of welcome to the stool she had just
vacated, saying laughingly: "I know Mr. Harrington would rather
you should sit here than a cross patch like me! I'm ill-natured
to-night, Mr. St. Claire," and she bit her words off with playful
spitefulness.
"Your face cannot be an index to your feelings, then," returned
Arthur, retaining her offered hand a moment, and looking into her
eyes, just to see if he could do it without flinching.
It was a dangerous experiment, for Edith's soul looked through her
eyes, and Arthur read therein that which sent feverish heats and
icy chills alternately through his veins. Releasing her hand he
sat down upon the upper step of the piazza, and leaning against
one of the pillars, began to pluck the leaves within his reach,
and mechanically tear them in pieces.
Meantime Richard had signified to Edith his wish that she should
bring another stool, and sit beside him just as Nina was doing.
Pages:
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288