Nor I can do without it?”
The hour which followed in the old garden sealed the fate of the false heir—he was hopelessly head over heels in love with the girl whom he had come to Blackheath Hall determined to hate. He was frightened at the vehemence of his mad passion.
What if she should not return it and refuse to obey the conditions of the will?
“I will not think of such a possibility,” he told himself, setting his handsome, white teeth hard together.
He felt that the first thing to be done to get on an amiable footing with her and remove her prejudice—for he felt reasonably sure that she recognized him—was to apologize for his seeming harshness to his horse on that memorable occasion when the girl had encountered him.
He got around the point most admirably, in his opinion, when he turned lightly and said to Jess:
“I have been trying to think, ever since I beheld you to-day, of whom you remind me. I have it now, your face is very similar to that of a young girl whom I met in this vicinity a few days ago as——”
“I am that girl, Mr. Dinsmore,” cut in Jess, icily, and with more dignity of manner than good Mrs. Bryson would ever have dreamed that she possessed, adding: “Your conduct exasperated me, and I administered to you what I considered a lesson and a rebuke in one. I know you are intending to tell Mrs. Bryson about it to get me into trouble, but I do not care; I would do the same thing over again under the same provocation, Mr. Dinsmore!” she cried, with flashing eyes.
“You mistake my intentions,” he hastened to reply; “I have no wish to ever mention it after this conversation, believe me. Instead, I wish to explain my actions to you, that I may not seem quite such an ogre in your sight as I must at present. Remember, I asked you to hear me then and you refused; surely you will not judge me too harshly until you have heard what I have to say upon the subject?” he said, eagerly.
“I would rather try to forget it,” retorted Jess, her slender, dark, jetty eyebrows meeting in a decided frown.