But no listener could have heard her soft whisper; even I, with my ear close to her lips, could scarcely catch the faint sounds. I comforted her, told her Sarah would not hurt her or “mamma” either—though I felt by no means so sure of her good-will as I pretended to be—and stayed with her until she went to sleep.
Then I wrapped myself up in a shawl and went into the plantation to look at my “nest.” And there, leaning with his back against the tree which formed my seat, was Laurence. I gave a cry of delight and ran forward; but he only raised his hat and said—
“Good-evening, Miss Christie.”
I stopped short, overwhelmed with dismay. Then I said, in quite a low husky voice, for I could scarcely get the words out—
“Laurence, why do you speak like that? Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Why should I be glad to see you, Miss Christie? I can’t hope to show to advantage in your eyes after the more amusing society you have just left.”
“What do you mean? What society do I like better than yours?”
“Oh, you are very kind; and I dare say I do very well as a makeshift when there is no more exciting amusement to be had!”
“Oh, Laurence, how can you say such cruel things? Are you angry because I went to Denham Court, and because I enjoyed myself? I couldn’t help it, everybody was so kind. But I thought of you all the time, and I wished with all my heart that you had been there.”
“Did you think of me while you were letting Mr. Carruthers whisper to you in the conservatory? Ah, I don’t wonder you start! And did you think of me when you were sitting in the window-seat with Mr. Carruthers leaning over your chair, and when you were using the same book in church with Mr. Carruthers, and letting Mr. Carruthers gather fruit and flowers for you, and feeding the fish with him in, oh, such an idyllic manner, and playing his accompaniments, and talking about poetry, and—”