“How can you talk so absurdly?” And she resumed her seat at the spinet, and her playing.
Peyton stood holding the flowers, looking at her, 222 and presently heaved a deep sigh. This not moving her, he suddenly had an access of pride, brought himself together, and saying, with quick resolution, “I bid you good-night and good-by, madam,” went rapidly towards the door of the east hall. But his resolution weakened when his hand touched the knob, and, to make pretext for further sight of her, he turned and went to go out the other door.
Elizabeth had had a moment of alarm at his first sign of departure, but had not betrayed the feeling. Now when, from her seat at the spinet, she saw him actually crossing the threshold near her, she called out, gently, “A moment, captain.”
The pleased look on his face, as he turned towards her inquiringly, betrayed his gratification at being called back.
“You are taking my flowers away,” she said, in explanation.
He plainly showed his disappointment. “Your pardon. My thoughtlessness. But you said you didn’t wish to keep them.” He laid them on the spinet.
“I do not,—yet a woman must allow very few hands to carry off flowers of her gathering.”
She rose and took up the flowers and walked towards the fireplace.
“Then you at least take them back from my hands,” said Peyton.