The Amateur Gentleman

Almost in the same moment she saw him, and started back to the wall,

glanced from Barnabas to the open lattice, and covered her face with

her hands. And now not knowing what to do, Barnabas crossed to the

window and, being there, looked out, and thus espied again the

languid gentleman, strolling up the lane, with his beaver hat cocked

at the same jaunty angle, and swinging his betasselled stick as he

went.

"You--you heard, then!" said Clemency, almost in a whisper.

"Yes," answered Barnabas, without turning; "but, being a great

rascal he probably lied."

"No, it is--quite true--I did run away with him; but oh! indeed,

indeed I left him again before--before--"

"Yes, yes," said Barnabas, a little hurriedly, aware that her face

was still hidden in her hands, though he kept his eyes studiously

averted. Then all at once she was beside him, her hands were upon

his arm, pleading, compelling; and thus she forced him to look at her,

and, though her cheeks yet burned, her eyes met his, frank and

unashamed.

"Sir," said she, "you do believe that I--that I found him out in

time--that I--escaped his vileness--you must believe--you shall!"

and her slender fingers tightened on his arm. "Oh, tell me--tell me,

you believe!"

"Yes," said Barnabas, looking down into the troubled depths of her

eyes; "yes, I do believe."

The compelling hands dropped from his arm, and she stood before him,

staring out blindly into the glory of the morning; and Barnabas

could not but see how the tears glistened under her lashes; also he

noticed how her brown, shapely hands griped and wrung each other.

"Sir," said she suddenly; "you are a friend of--Viscount Devenham."

"I count myself so fortunate."

"And--therefore--a gentleman."

"Indeed, it is my earnest wish."

"Then you will promise me that, should you ever hear anything spoken

to the dishonor of Beatrice Darville, you will deny it."

"Yes," said Barnabas, smiling a little grimly, "though I think I

should do--more than that."

Now when he said this, Clemency looked up at him suddenly, and in

her eyes there was a glow no tears could quench; her lips quivered

but no words came, and then, all at once, she caught his hand,

kissed it, and so was gone, swift and light, and shy as any bird.

And, in a while, happening to spy his letter on the table, Barnabas

sat down and wrote out the superscription with many careful

flourishes, which done, observing his hat near by, he took it up,

brushed it absently, put it on, and went out into the sunshine.