He turned away from me, then came back.
"But remember this," he said severely, and laying his hand on my shoulder as he spoke, "that though you have presumed to reveal to me a feeling of which you should blush to acknowledge the existence, I will not allow that feeling to betray itself in any manner, however slight. Do you hear?"
"Yes, Cornelius," I replied, stung at the unmerited accusation and uncalled-for prohibition; "but if I am so wicked, can you prevent me from showing it?"
I did not mean that I would show it; but he took my words in their worst sense, for his eyes lit as he answered—
"I shall see if I cannot prevent it."
I was too proud and too much hurt to enter on a justification. I left the room; at the door I met Miriam, who gave me a covert look as she entered the studio. I went to my room and remained there until dinner-time. Cornelius took no notice of me; Miriam, who often dined with us, was, on the other hand, very kind and attentive. I saw she had got it all out from him. Kate behaved like one who knew and suspected nothing; admired the bracelets, and seeing that I wanted to linger with her in the parlour after the two had left it, she gaily told me to be off, for that she wanted none of my company, as she was going out. I obeyed so far as leaving the parlour went, but I did not enter the studio. I took refuge in my own room, there to lament my sin and imprudence. I knew well enough how wrong were the feelings I had expressed to Cornelius, and better still how a few passionate words had undone a month's patience and silent endurance. I stayed in my room until dusk; as daylight waned, I heard Miriam leave and go down. I waited for awhile, then softly stole up to the studio. I entered it with a beating heart, thinking to make my peace with Cornelius. The room was vacant. I sat down by the table, hoping he might return, but he did not. I lingered there, that if he called me down to tea, he might thus give me an opportunity of speaking to him. He did call me, but from the first floor.
"What are you doing in the studio?" he asked, rather sharply when I went down.
"I went up to speak to you, Cornelius."
"And you therefore looked for me in a place where I never am at this hour! Say you went up there to indulge in a fit of sulkiness, and do not equivocate."
I could not answer, I was too much hurt by his unkind tone and manner. Of course I ventured no attempt at reconciliation.