The Rector of St. Marks

"Let him take her, then. He is welcome, for all of me," she thought;

and then, as a keen pang of shame and disappointment swept over her,

she laid her head for a moment upon the grass and wept bitterly. "He

must have seen what I expected and I care most for that," she sobbed,

resolving henceforth to guard herself at every point and do all that

lay in her power to further Lucy's interests, "He will thus see how

little I really care," she thought, and, lifting up her head, she tore

in fragments the wreath she had been making, but which she could not

now place on the head of her rival.

Mr. Leighton was flirting terribly with her when she joined the party

assembled around the table, and he never once looked at Anna, though

he saw that her plate was well supplied with the best of everything,

and when at one draught she drained her glass of ice-water, he quietly

placed another within her reach, standing a little before her and

trying evidently to shield her from too critical observation. There

were two at least who were glad when the picnic was over, and various

were the private opinions of the company with regard to the

entertainment. Dr. Bellamy, who had been repeatedly foiled in his

attempts to be especially attentive to Lucy Harcourt, pronounced the

whole thing "a bore." Fanny, who had been highly displeased with the

doctor's deportment, came to the conclusion that the enjoyment did not

compensate for all the trouble, and while the rector thought he had

never spent a more thoroughly wretched day, and Anna would have given

worlds if she had stayed at home, Lucy declared that never in her life

had she had so perfectly delightful a time, always excepting, of

course, "that moonlight sail in Venice."