The orphan lifted her head from the arm of Miss Jane’s chair, where it had rested for some minutes, and striking her palms forcibly together, she exclaimed, proudly,—
“Tell Dr. Grey I humbly thank him, but the threat has lost its sting; and if I should chance to meet him years hence, though my hands shall be pure and clean as Una’s, and as unsullied as his own,—so help me heaven! I will never thrust my touch on his, nor so far forget myself as to suffer his fingers to approach mine. When I pass from this threshold, we will have shaken hands forever.”
“Dr. Grey’s ears are not proof against such elevated, ringing tones of voice, and he could not avoid hearing, as he came 231 up the steps, the childish words which he assures you he has no intention of believing or remembering.”
He had tapped twice at the half-open door, and now came forward with a firm, quick step, to the ottoman where Salome sat. Taking her hands, he patted the palms softly against each other, and smiling good-humoredly, continued,—
“They are very white, and shapely, and pure, and I am not afraid that my little sister will soil them. Her brother looks forward to the day when they will gently and gracefully help him in his work among God’s suffering poor. I have not forgotten how dexterous and docile I found your fingers, when I had temporarily lost the use of my own, and I shall not fail to levy contributions of labor in the coming years.”
She had snatched her fingers from his, and no sooner had he ceased speaking, than she bowed haughtily, and answered,—
“Our reconciliations all belong to the Norman family, and are quite as lasting as Lamourette’s. Ceaseless war is preferable to a violated truce, and since I have not swerved from my purpose, I shall not falter in its enunciation. If I live it shall not be my fault if I fail to go upon the stage. I am not so fastidious as Dr. Grey, and one who sprang from canaille must be pardoned if she betrays a longing for the ‘flesh-pots of Egypt.’”
She would have given her right hand to recall her words,—when, a moment later, she met the gaze of profound pity and disappointment with which Dr. Grey’s eyes dwelt upon her countenance, hardened now by its expression of insolent haughtiness; but he allowed her no opportunity for retraction, even had she mastered her overweening pride, and stooping to whisper a brief sentence in his sister’s ear, he took a medical book from the table, and left the room.
The silence that ensued seemed interminable to Salome, and at last she turned, bowed her head in Miss Jane’s lap, and muttered through set teeth,—
“You see it is best that I should go. Even you must be weary of this strife.”