"But mother may go with us?" The girl felt that the tension of his arm
was relaxed, and she knew that all was not well with him. And if there
was ought amiss with him, how much more must it be amiss with her? "What
is it, Fred?" she said. "There is some secret. Will you not tell it
to me?" Then she whispered into his ear words intended for him alone,
though her mother heard them. "If there be a secret you should tell it
me now. Think how it is with me. Your words are life and death to me
now." He still held her with loosened arms but did not answer her. He
sat, looking out into the middle of the room with fixed eyes, and he
felt that drops of perspiration were on his brow. And he knew that the
other woman was glaring at him with the eyes of an injured lioness,
though he did not dare to turn his own to her face. "Fred, tell me; tell
me." And Kate rose up, with her knees upon the sofa, bending over him,
gazing into his countenance and imploring him.
"There must be disappointment," he said; and he did not know the sound
of his own voice.
"What disappointment? Speak to me. What disappointment?"
"Disappointment!" shrieked the mother. "How disappointment? There shall
be no disappointment." Rising from her chair, she hurried across the
room, and took her girl from his arms. "Lord Scroope, tell us what you
mean. I say there shall be no disappointment. Sit away from him, Kate,
till he has told us what it is." Then they heard the sound of a horse's
foot passing close to the window, and they all knew that it was the
priest. "There is Father Marty," said Mrs. O'Hara. "He shall make you
tell it."
"I have already told him." Lord Scroope as he said this rose and moved
towards the door; but he himself was almost unconscious of the movement.
Some idea probably crossed his mind that he would meet the priest, but
Mrs. O'Hara thought that he intended to escape from them.
She rushed between him and the door and held him with both her hands.
"No; no; you do not leave us in that way, though you were twice an
Earl."
"I am not thinking of leaving you."
"Mother, you shall not hurt him; you shall not insult him," said the
girl. "He does not mean to harm me. He is my own, and no one shall touch
him."
"Certainly I will not harm you. Here is Father Marty. Mrs. O'Hara you
had better be tranquil. You should remember that you have heard nothing
yet of what I would say to you."
"Whose fault is that? Why do you not speak? Father Marty, what does he
mean when he tells my girl that there must be disappointment for her?
Does he dare to tell me that he hesitates to make her his wife?"
The priest took the mother by the hand and placed her on the chair in
which she usually sat. Then, almost without a word, he led Kate from the
room to her own chamber, and bade her wait a minute till he should come
back to her. Then he returned to the sitting-room and at once addressed
himself to Lord Scroope. "Have you dared," he said, "to tell them what
you hardly dared to tell to me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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