"It grieves me to think ill of her, my husband, and yet, when out of her sight, evil forebodings rise in my mind, which the first glance of her eyes is sure to dispel. To-night her manner was so wayward—another would have explained—would have called out—no word, no sign. She neither moved nor seemed to note the presence of any human being."
"I must converse with this stranger; after receiving her as our friend and guest, it is meet that we should know somewhat more concerning her."
"She will set every doubt at rest in your mind, of that I am certain. I know not what to advise, but I am glad that you are returned, for I was sorely puzzled how to act."
"Where are our friends? I fear we left them somewhat unceremoniously."
"Let us go back to them," returned Lady Phipps. "I believe, in truth, we should offer some apology for our abrupt departure."
CHAPTER XXI.
PASSIONATE DENUNCIATIONS.
When Governor Phipps and his wife entered the library they found Samuel Parris standing in the midst of the room, waiting, with suppressed impatience, for the appearance of his daughter. He strode forward a pace or two, with eager fire in his eyes, when Lady Phipps crossed the threshold; but seeing that the form he so longed for did not follow, drew back with nervous shyness, shrinking within himself as if the impulsive affection warming his heart were a sin to hide away and be ashamed of.
"Mr. Parris, welcome back again," said Lady Phipps, holding out her plump little hand. "We have been rude to keep you in solitude so long."