“You don’t say anything,” said Rita, with again a little tone of complaint. “Do you think that is kind, or fair? You rouse my expectations, and then you never say another word. I have thought of it all this time, and always wondered if you would ever tell me. How could Mr. Oliver manage to take me to England without danger? that is what I have always been saying to myself. What, Mr. Oliver! won’t you say a word?”
Here there burst a cry from Harry’s breast. “Don’t torture me,” he said; then collecting all his strength, “It was my presumption. I thought only that to take—the most precious care of you——”
His voice shook, and at last his little torturer felt that she had got almost to the end of his powers.
“That is a very pretty way of saying it, Mr. Oliver; precious care; it is not slang, is it? I am sure you would be kind—very, very kind.”
“Oh, kind!” cried poor Harry, grasping unconsciously the white curtains that kept blowing between him and her, in his strong, hot hands.
“Don’t you like the word? I think it is such a nice word. There is nothing like it in Italian, and you can apply it so widely. You can be kind to a horse or a dog; and then to children, and sick people and poor people; and then—to everybody—me. You have always been, ever since I knew you, very kind to me.”
“Don’t say so—don’t say so—not that word,” Harry cried.
“But there is no other word half so good. Other words express other feelings; kind means, just kind. There is nothing else expresses it. English is a wonderfully fine language. It is so strong and so trustworthy. You feel as if you could believe it, every word. Mr. Oliver,” said Rita, in her little, soft, insinuating voice, “did you really, really believe that—that I might go to England, if—someone were to take care of me, such care as you call precious; but, then, who would do that? not papa, for he is so frightened. No one I know.”
“Miss Bonamy, I must say good night,” said Harry, very shortly, taking himself out of the floating curtain, almost tearing it down in his agitation.
“Good night! before papa comes back? Oh, but that would be unkind. Don’t. Why should you run off in such a hurry in the very middle of our talk?”