All had been bustle. Not one moment for recollection had yet been

Rachel's. Mr. Grey's words, "Accountable for all," throbbed in her ears

and echoed in her brain--the purple bruises, the red stripes, verging

upon sores, were before her eyes, and the lights, the flowers, the

people and their greetings, were like a dizzy mist. The space before

dinner was happily but brief, and then, as last lady, she came in as a

supernumerary on the other arm of Grace's cavalier, and taking the only

vacant chair, found herself between a squire and Captain Keith, who had

duly been bestowed on Emily Grey.

Here there was a moment's interval of quiet, for the squire was slightly

deaf, and, moreover, regarded her as a little pert girl, not to be

encouraged, while Captain Keith was resigned to the implied homage

of the adorer of his cross; so that, though the buzz of talk and the

clatter of knives and forks roared louder than it had ever seemed to do

since she had been a child, listening from the outside, the immediate

sense of hurry and confusion, and the impossibility of seeing or hearing

anything plainly, began to diminish. She could not think, but she began

to wonder whether any one knew what had happened; and, above all, she

perfectly dreaded the quiet sting of her neighbour's word and eye, in

this consummation of his victory. If he glanced at her, she knew she

could not bear it; and if he never spoke to her at all, it would be

marked reprehension, which would be far better than sarcasm. He was

evidently conscious of her presence; for when, in her insatiable thirst,

she had drained her own supply of water, she found the little bottle

quietly exchanged for that before him. It was far on in the dinner

before Emily's attention was claimed by the gentleman on her other hand,

and then there was a space of silence before Captain Keith almost made

Rachel start, by saying-"This has come about far more painfully than could have been expected."

"I thought you would have triumphed," she said.

"No, indeed. I feel accountable for the introduction that my sister

brought upon you."

"It was no fault of hers," said Rachel, sadly.

"I wish I could feel it so."

"That was a mere chance. The rest was my own doing."

"Aided and abetted by more than one looker-on."

"No. It is I who am accountable," she said, repeating Mr. Grey's words.

"You accept the whole?"

It was his usual, cool, dry tone; but as she replied, "I must," she

involuntarily looked up, with a glance of entreaty to be spared, and

she met those dark, grey, heavy-lidded eyes fixed on her with so much

concern as almost to unnerve her.

"You cannot," he answered; "every bystander must rue the apathy that let

you be so cruelly deceived, for want of exertion on their part."




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024