For love and life; vol. 1 of 2Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
For love and life; vol. 1 of 2
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction
“Yes; but I don’t know how. I never saw her before.”
“I wonder--perhaps, if I were to take Robinson away and hear his
story--while you might hear what she has to say?”
“I? But indeed I don’t know her, I assure you I have never seen her
before,” said Edgar in dismay.
“Never mind, she knows you. She is just the sort of person to prefer to
confide in one whom she does not see every day. I’ll leave you with
her, Earnshaw. Perhaps it will be best if you step this way, Robinson;
I shall hear what you have to say here.”
Robinson followed his superior promptly into a smaller room. Edgar was
left with the culprit; and it is scarcely possible to realize a less
comfortable position. What was he to do with her? He was not acquainted
either with her or her class; he did not know how to address her. She
looked like a lady, but yet was not a lady, and for the present moment
she was on her trial. Was he to laugh, as he felt inclined to do, at the
shabby trick his friend had played him, or was he to proceed gravely
with his mission? Miss Lockwood solved this question for herself.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Two Culprits on their Trial.
“You’re surprised, Sir, that a stranger should be so ready to speak up
to you,” said Miss Lockwood, “you don’t know me from Adam? but I know
you. You are the gentleman that was in the great Arden case, the
gentleman as gave up. You wouldn’t think it, but I am mixed up with the
Ardens too; and as soon as I set eyes upon you, I said to myself, ‘Here
is one that will help me to my rights.’”
“Have you, too, rights that involve the Ardens?” said Edgar, startled
yet half amused. “Alas, I fear I cannot help you. If you know my story
you must know I am no Arden, and have no influence with the family one
way or another.”
“You mightn’t have influence, Sir, but you might hate ’em--as I do,” she
said, with a gleam in her eyes which changed the character of her
otherwise commonplace though handsome countenance.
“Hate them!” cried Edgar, still more startled. “Why, this is a tragical
way of approaching the subject. What have the Ardens done to you that
you should hate them?”
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