"Shall I send it?" asked Jean, looking straight up at him, like one who
had entire reliance on his judgment.
"Yes, I have not the heart to rob him of such a sweet sermon upon
self-sacrifice. Shall I post it for you?"
"Thank you; in a moment." And with a grateful look, Jean dropped her
eyes. Producing her little purse, she selected a penny, folded it in a
bit of paper, and then offered both letter and coin to Coventry, with
such a pretty air of business, that he could not control a laugh.
"So you won't be indebted to me for a penny? What a proud woman you are,
Miss Muir."
"I am; it's a family failing." And she gave him a significant glance,
which recalled to him the memory of who she was. He understood her
feeling, and liked her the better for it, knowing that he would have
done the same had he been in her place. It was a little thing, but if
done for effect, it answered admirably, for it showed a quick insight
into his character on her part, and betrayed to him the existence of a
pride in which he sympathized heartily. He stood by Jean a moment,
watching her as she burnt Edward's letter in the blaze of the spirit
lamp under the urn.
"Why do you do that?" he asked involuntarily.
"Because it is my duty to forget" was all her answer.
"Can you always forget when it becomes a duty?"
"I wish I could! I wish I could!"
She spoke passionately, as if the words broke from her against her will,
and, rising hastily, she went into the garden, as if afraid to stay.
"Poor, dear Jean is very unhappy about something, but I can't discover
what it is. Last night I found her crying over a rose, and now she runs
away, looking as if her heart was broken. I'm glad I've got no lessons."
"What kind of a rose?" asked Coventry from behind his paper as
Bella paused.
"A lovely white one. It must have come from the Hall; we have none like
it. I wonder if Jean was ever going to be married, and lost her lover,
and felt sad because the flower reminded her of bridal roses."
Coventry made no reply, but felt himself change countenance as he
recalled the little scene behind the rose hedge, where he gave Jean the
flower which she had refused yet taken. Presently, to Bella's surprise,
he flung down the paper, tore Sydney's note to atoms, and rang for his
horse with an energy which amazed her.
"Why, Gerald, what has come over you? One would think Ned's restless
spirit had suddenly taken possession of you. What are you going to do?"