Her disappointment was forgotten in an instant. Her eyes danced with joy. Here was some one, at least, of whom she was not afraid—in whom she could perfectly confide—who would never terrify, humiliate, or in any way wound her.
“Oh! David Lindsay, I am so glad to see you!” she said, frankly, holding out her hand to him.
He took it, bowed, and dropped it, all in silence.
“Oh! David Lindsay, why haven’t you come to see your old playmate all this time? I have been home nearly three months, and you have not been to see me once, not once. You promised to come the day after my arrival to take me to see your grandmother. Well, I know it rained that day, and for a week afterwards, and you didn’t come because you knew I could not go out in such weather. But there has been very fine weather since then, yet you have never come to see your old playmate, never once—and such friends as we used to be! I take it very unkind of you, David Lindsay, that I do!” she said, with an air of injury that she really felt.
“Miss de la Vera,” gravely replied the young man, as soon as the cessation of her scolding little tongue gave him the chance, “I have been to see you many times within the last three months, but you have always been denied to me.”
“Eh!” exclaimed Gloria, opening her eyes wide with incredulous astonishment.
“I beg to repeat that I have come many times to pay my respects, but have always been denied the privilege.”
“Now, who has dared to do that? Who has dared to profane my freedom in that manner? David Lindsay, I never knew of your coming or I would have seen you. Now tell me all about it,” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling, and her cheeks burning with the sense of wrong and outrage, as she turned about to continue her walk. He also turned and went beside her, as he answered:
“Miss de la Vera, the morning after your arrival home I came up to the hall, not by appointment, not to take you to Sandy Isle, for I knew you could not go in such a storm, but to ask you to fix another day when I might have the honor of serving you. I was met by Colonel de Crespigney, to whom I made known my errand. He told me that the weather would not permit Miss de la Vera to go out that day, nor was it likely that it would be any more favorable for a week to come, and when, in fact, it should be so, and when his ward should desire to make a visit, he would himself escort her. His manner told me that my visit was uncalled for, unwelcome, and improper. I bowed very low, and left him.”
“He never told me that you had been here. I blamed you for neglect. And it is all his fault. Oh! I am glad I met you, David Lindsay! Tell me more! You came again?”