I spoke thus harshly to her, and coldly, when my heart was almost breaking the while.
“And is that all you have got to say to me, Frank?” she said, still in the same dear, tender, entreating voice, and with glistening eyes.
My sternness was nearly melted; but I continued to hold out and stand upon my dignity.
“I have nothing more to add, Miss Clyde,” I said, with another Grandisonian bow.
“Then, Mr Lorton,” she said, her grey eyes flashing, and her whole dear little self roused into a fiery, impulsive little Min—she looked glorious in her pique!—“then, Mr Lorton, I will not seek to detain you further—let me pass, sir!” she added passionately, as, relenting of my behaviour, I tried to stop her and explain my conduct—“Let me pass, sir! I do not wish to hear another word from you!”
And she walked, as stately as a little queen, into the hall of the vicarage, tossing up her sweet little dimpled chin proudly; while, I?—went back disconsolately home, my heart torn with conflicting emotions.
Was I right, or wrong?
Perhaps the rumour of her engagement had not the slightest foundation, in fact.
However, it was too late now to think about that!
All was over.