“Exactly,” groaned her listener. “A man must have ten thousand pounds nowadays before he can afford the luxury of a wife, and then he’s ruined half the time. But pray look where you are going, Lady Gwendolyn. I am sure that branch on which you are stepping is rotten and unsafe.”
“It bore me before.”
“And, therefore, is less likely to do so again. I can hear it crack now—for mercy’s sake step back!” he shouted, in a frightened tone.
She seemed to enjoy his alarm, and laughed defiantly. She desired nothing better than to make him suffer a little; and she saw, by his anxious face, that he was suffering now—from a nervous dread of witnessing some catastrophe, no doubt. She put her other foot onto the rotten branch. He was watching her with his heart in his eyes; but he saw that his warning had been a mistake, and was silent now, hoping she would try to redeem her error if she were left to herself.
And so she did; but it was too late. The bough gave a loud creak, then broke off suddenly, and Lady Gwendolyn fell in a brilliant heap at Colonel Dacre’s feet.
The red cloak, her pretty summer hat, and her long black hair, were all in such a tangle together that he could not find her face at first, and even when he did he was afraid to look, lest the fatal beauty, which had been the curse of so many, was all spoiled and disfigured. An unholy thought sped through him, that, if it were so, there would be none to dispute with him the treasure he coveted. But he chased this away with contumely.
With a quick but reluctant hand he swept away the shining masses of her hair, and looked at her anxiously. She was as white as a lily; but if there was no more harm done than what he saw, she would break many more hearts yet—his own maybe among the rest.
He bent his lips almost to her ear; inhaling, with passionate delight, the faint perfume that pervaded her dress.
So far it had been a wonderful privilege to hold her hand for a few seconds in his; and now he might have touched her creamy cheek with his lips had he been so minded, and no one would have been the wiser, for the Handley wagonette had gone by, and there was not a living soul in sight.
It was a great temptation, for he had loved this girl secretly, madly, entirely, for two long years, and had suffered tortures of jealousy and hopelessness meanwhile.