In League with Israel: A Tale of the Chattanooga ConferenceJohnston, Annie F. (Annie Fellows)
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In League with Israel: A Tale of the Chattanooga Conference
Johnston, Annie F. (Annie Fellows)
Epworth League (U.S.) -- Fiction
He noticed what a cool-looking white dress she wore, the graceful poise
of her head, and her beautiful sunny hair. Then he saw the lilies beside
her, and wished she would turn so that he could see her face.
"Some fair Elaine--a lily-maid of Astolat," he thought, and then smiled
at himself for having grown Tennysonian over a typewriter before he had
even heard her name or seen her face.
At last Bethany finished the record, with a sigh of relief. Quickly
fastening the pages, she rose to take it into the next room. Just on the
threshold she saw Herschel, and gave an involuntary little start of
surprise.
As she stood there, all in white, with one hand against the dark
door-casing, she looked just as she had the night David first saw her.
He arose as she entered.
Mr. Edmunds was not usually a man of quick perceptions, but he noticed
the look of admiration in David's eyes, and he thought they both seemed
a trifle embarrassed as he introduced them.
They had recalled at the same moment the night in the Chattanooga depot,
when she had distinctly declared to Mr. Marion that she did not care to
make his acquaintance.
For once in her life she lost her usual self-possession. That gracious
ease of manner which "stamps the caste of Vere de Vere" was one of her
greatest charms. But just at this moment, when she wished to atone for
that unfortunate remark by an especially friendly greeting, when she
wanted him to know that her point of view had changed entirely, and that
not a vestige of the old prejudice remained, she could not summon a word
to her aid.
Conscious of appearing ill at ease, she blushed like a diffident
school-girl, and bowed coldly.
David courteously remained standing until she had laid the record on Mr.
Edmunds's desk and left the room.
Mr. Edmunds glanced at him quickly, as he resumed his seat; but there
was not the slightest change of expression to show that he had noticed
what appeared to be an intentional haughtiness of manner in Bethany's
greeting. But he had noticed it, and it stung his sensitive nature more
than he cared to acknowledge, even to himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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