But in all her indignation there was no scorn of David Lindsay, or of his humble calling; for in her innocent and loyal way she loved and respected her old playmate, even as she did his aged relative on the islet. It was the hypothesis of “an objectionable attachment” and “an improper marriage” at which she revolted. And if, instead of a poor, uncultivated young fisherman, the most accomplished prince on earth had been in question, she would have felt equally offended.
They had now reached the steps leading up to the portico of the front door.
Colonel de Crespigney paused there, and with his hand resting on one of the iron posts, he inquired:
“Well, shall I give the orders you requested me to issue? Shall I say that the young fisherman must be admitted to your presence whenever he may come here and ask to see you?”
“No! On your soul!” impetuously answered the girl. “No! You have killed David Lindsay! You have murdered the harmless playmate of my happy childhood! I shall never, never see him more! He is dead and buried!”
“‘Requiescat in pace,’” replied the colonel solemnly, lifting his hat.
Gloria passed him, opened the front door, and fled up into the safety of her room.
Her “intuitions” warned the motherless child to avoid a tête-à-tête with Colonel de Crespigney.
CHAPTER XII
HOPELESS LOVE
He deemed that time, he deemed that pride