He saw her raise her little shapely hand to her twitching mouth and experienced one instant's throbbing desire to catch it and hold it and beg her to have mercy on him and help him throw off the hellish despair that rested on him. It was a significant fact that she said nothing to protract the conversation on the line of Bates's proposal. To her the proposal and rejection of a king by her would have found no place in her thoughts, facing the incomprehensible mood of the man she loved. It was growing dark when they reached the hotel. As he aided her to alight he gave her his hand. "It's good-bye for a while, anyway," he said.
She started; her hand was heavy and cold. She caught her breath. "When are you going, Mr. Westerfelt?"
"In the morning after breakfast, by the hack to Darley."
That was all. She lowered her head and passed into the house. In the hall she met her mother.
"Great goodness, dear!" exclaimed the old woman; "what on earth did you run away from him so sudden for?"
Harriet pushed past her into the parlor and stood fumbling with the buttons of her cloak.
"Answer me, daughter," pursued Mrs. Floyd; "what did—"
"Oh, God! don't bother me, mother," cried Harriet.
Mrs. Floyd held her breath as she drew her daughter down on a sofa and stared into her face.
"What's the matter, daughter? Do tell me."