“She did not say.”
CHAPTER XL.
Thea glanced anxiously at her guardian. He did not seem inclined to talk. Had she offended him by her boldness in asking him to stay longer with her when he was doubtless anxious to go to Miss Bentley? The color flamed hotly into her cheeks. “I—I—perhaps I am detaining you. Do not stay unless you wish,” she said, timidly.
“I am not in any hurry,” he answered, smiling down at her a grave, sweet smile that made her heart go pit-a-pat with pleasure. “Perhaps you wanted to ask me how I liked your poetry?” he said.
“Oh, no, no; I—I don’t want to hear. I knew it was nothing but trash. I’m sorry I let you see it!” the girl cried, depreciatingly.
“You should not say that. I found it very readable,” he answered.
“Thank you; but of course you say that out of kindness,” dimpling pensively.
“No; I mean it. I enjoyed reading some of the pretty trifles. You have decided poetical talent, still I was glad to find that you were not a genius.”
“Glad? Why?” reproachfully, with downcast eyes and a quivering lip.
“I should not like to see you aspiring to a literary career, with its heartaches and disappointments alternating with feverish triumphs. Woman should belong to the sweet fire-side of home, not to the critical public.”