“He is an impetuous young man, who will not take ‘No’ when it has been said to him,” she observed, “so it is best that Aimée should say it over again herself. He thinks, no doubt, that I am influencing her.”
“You should influence her,” said Mr. Meredith. “You should see that there is an end to such folly at once.”
“I have influenced her,” said Fanny, very truthfully. “But for me, she would not have sent him away last night. And so you were positive that it was me whom you saw!” she went on, with absolutely mirthful eyes. “It is true, Aimée is as tall as I am; but then she is so slight, and so unformed—”
“How could I tell that at night?” said Mr. Meredith. “And how could I think of her? She always seemed to me a mere child. I confess that I thought only of you—and a most miserable night I spent in consequence,” he added, feelingly.
“I am not at all sorry,” said Miss Berrien, with uncompromising decision. “You had no right to think such a thing for a moment, after all that I have said to you. It was shameful! It shows that you have no trust in me—no real regard and respect for me. If I did what was right, now that I have proved how you misjudged me, I should never speak to you again!”
“Oh, you would not be so cruel as that, I hope!” said the now humbled and alarmed suitor. “Because, after all, I was hardly to blame—I forgot all about your cousin’s existence; and you know you have never promised anything, so I had no right to feel certain of you.”
“You will never have the right if you can not trust me better than this,” said Fanny, perceiving her advantage and pressing it ruthlessly.
It was not difficult to foresee the state of subjection to which Mr. Meredith would soon be reduced in order to make amends for the mistake into which he had been betrayed. Miss Berrien was determined upon two things: first, to keep him well engaged until she was sure that Lennox Kyrle had left the house, and, secondly, to revenge herself for the fright she had suffered; but despite her self-command, her nerves were in a state of considerable tension, and it is to be feared that it was rather a bad quarter of an hour which he was called upon to endure.
Not so bad, however, as that of poor Aimée, who was sent forth to again encounter and overcome the ill-used Mr. Kyrle. She found him standing at the hall door—a slender, handsome young man, whose refined face and brilliant, eager eyes presented a type as widely different from Mr. Meredith as it is possible to conceive. He turned quickly at the sound of her footstep, and Aimée felt as if the glance which fell on her pierced to her trembling soul. But there was nothing which she desired or had need to conceal, so she came forward, the movement of her slight, shrinking figure reminding him of the night before, and her dark eyes full of an unconscious appeal.