“I liked her so much! Do you know—whether any one has written to Stephen?”
“Papa did. He waited until you were out of danger, since he could not send for him.”
“I suppose he would not have cared much either way;” and the thin lip curled.
“Pardon me. I think he has a great deal of love for you. He was so considerate of your comfort and health when he was here!”
“Seemed to be, you mean. When you have learned more of the world, Miss Rose, you will know that there is a good share of glitter that is not gold. He and Stuart would have had ever so much more money.”
“You wrong them both. You are unjust to them.”
“O,” he said, rather sneeringly, “you girls can get up quite a sentiment for each other; but boys take a thing for what it is worth. Neither of them loves me; and I can’t say there is much love lost between us.”
“I wish you felt differently about them. And you have just been so ill, too!”
“I told him that I wouldn’t go nor stay with Stuart. He torments my very life out. I begged him to send me somewhere else. And no, he would not. He treats me as if I were about ten years old, and did not know what was best for myself. He cannot think that I am almost as much of a man as he is!”
He uttered this in a rapid breath, and then gasped from exhaustion.