"Then it must have been--" Light broke on her, but she paused and
suppressed Patty's name.
"I like you," she went on, "because you speak honestly with me."
"Come, that's better."
"No: I want you to understand. It's because your honesty makes me
able to be honest with you." She drew herself up to the height of
her superb beauty and touched her breast. "You see me?" she asked in
a low, hurried voice. "I am yours. My father has said it, and I
repeat it, adding this: I make no bargain, except that you will be
honest. I am to be your wife: use me as you will. All that life
with you calls to be undergone, I will undergo: as his drudge to the
hind in the fields I offer myself. Nothing less than that shall
satisfy me, since through it--can you not see?--I must save myself.
But oh, sir! since something in me makes you prize me above other
women, even as I am, let that compel you to be open with me always!
When, as it will, a thought makes you turn from me--though but for a
moment--do not hide it. I would drink all the cup. I must atone--
let me atone!"
She walked straight up to him in her urgency, but suddenly dropped
her arms. He stared at her, bewildered.
"I shall have no such thoughts, Miss Hetty."
CHAPTER XI.
Beyond the kitchen-garden a raised causeway led into the Bawtry road,
between an old drain of the Tome River and a narrower ditch running
down to the parsonage duck-pond. The ditch as a rule was dry, or
almost dry, being fed through a sluice in the embankment from time to
time when the waters of the duck-pond needed replenishing.
Half an hour later, as William Wright--who had business at Bawtry--
left the yard by the small gate and came stepping briskly by the
pond, Johnny Whitelamb pushed through the hedge at the end of the
kitchen-garden, attempted a flying leap across the ditch and
scrambled--with one leg plastered in mud to the knee--up to the
causeway, where he stood waving his arms like a windmill and uttering
sounds as rapid as they were incoherent.
The plumber, catching sight of this agitated figure on the path
ahead, stood still for a moment. He understood neither the noises
nor the uncouth gestures, but made sure that some accident had
happened.
"Here, what's wrong?" he demanded, moving on and coming to a halt
again in front of Johnny.
But still Johnny gurgled and choked. "You--you mustn't come here!"
"Eh, why not? What's doing?"
"You mustn't come here. You _sha'n't_--it's worse than murder!
P-promise me you won't come here again!"
Mr. Wright began to understand, and his eye twinkled. "Who's to
prevent it, now?"
"_I_ will, if you w-won't listen to reason. You are killing her,
between you: you don't know w-what wickedness you're doing.
She's--she's an angel."
"Bravo, my lad! So she is, every inch of her." The plumber held out
his hand.
Johnny drew his away indignantly and began to choke again.
"She's not for you. It'll all come right if you stay away.
P-promise me you'll stay away!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account