Guy looked the surprise he felt. He had not thought of her being a wife at all, much less the wife of Scott Wilmer, and he would have recalled the words if he could—words which he knew must have wounded Scott, for he was well aware that there was nothing in his nature that savored of frivolity. He could offer no apology, but was quite careful not to speak of Colonel Brunswick again.
CHAPTER XV.
REJECTED.
“Miss Wilmer, if you knew how deeply, how truly, I love you, you could not receive my attentions as coldly as you do. I did not dream that you would be so indifferent.”
Mr. Linton raised June’s little hand to his lips. He had asked her to walk with him on the lawn, which she, for the sake of courtesy, did not refuse. The clouds of the morning had cleared away and the stars were shining brightly. The light from the street lamps and from the spacious windows of the Wilmer mansion was softened by the shade of evergreen and clusters of shrubbery. The wide lawn, whose soft green carpet sparkled here and there with drops of dew, seemed a fit place to pour forth dreams of youthful love to willing ears, for at least a dozen couples might have been seen promenading the flagstone walks with which the green sod was separated in fair designs. June had thrown a soft blue mantle around her shoulders, for, as she said, Scott had always cautioned her against the damp night air. Scott was as full of notions as any old woman, Rene said, about night air, walking in the dew or sitting in the draught. She saw Rene sparkling 116 in her beauty and promenading the lawn, leaning on the arm of the Colonel, and once as she followed quite near she observed that he was leaning very closely, speaking in low, tender tones, and as Rene lifted her glowing face to his she saw him kiss her lips. A cold fear shot through June’s heart. Could it be possible that Rene could be so careless of her own reputation and Scott’s happiness? She hoped that Mr. Linton had not noticed the action, and she did not think he had, as he was at that moment speaking to her of his love.
“Where is Scott?” June asked.
“Oh, June, are you here? I thought it was Nellie Blake. I knew you were out on the lawn, but I thought I saw you at the other side,” said Irene in a half frightened voice.
“You were mistaken. Is Scott here?” June asked again.
“I should think not. I saw him and Mr. Horton sitting together, apparently discussing something of great importance, when I left the house; but you know, June, he never finds time to act as other men do,” Irene said, trying to find some way to throw the blame on another than herself.