Love's labor wonSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
Love's labor won
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
Elopement -- Fiction; Washington (D.C.) -- Fiction
Marguerite went and sat down on the sofa, and drew a little workstand
toward her, on which she rested both elbows, while she dropped her
forehead upon the palms of her hands. She had scarcely sat down, when
Philip Helmstedt, as from second thought, re-entered the room, from
which, indeed, he had scarcely been absent ten minutes. Marguerite
dropped her hands and looked up with an expression of welcome in
her face; Mr. Helmstedt did not glance toward her, but went to the
cabinet--the upper portion of which was a bookcase--selected a volume,
and came and drew a chair to the corner of the fireplace opposite to
Marguerite’s sofa, sat down and seemed to read, but really studied
Marguerite’s countenance; and she felt that influence, though now,
while her head rested upon one arm leaned on the stand, her eyes were
never lifted from the floor. So passed some twenty minutes.
Eleven o’clock struck. They were in the habit of taking some light
refreshments at this hour, before retiring for the night. And now the
door opened and Hildreth entered, bringing a waiter, upon which stood
two silver baskets, containing oranges and Malaga grapes, which she
brought and placed upon the stand before her mistress, and then retired.
Mr. Helmstedt threw down his book, drew his chair to the stand, and
took up and peeled an orange, which he placed upon a plate with a bunch
of grapes, and offered to Marguerite.
She looked up to see what promise there might be in this act, ready,
anxious to meet any advance half-way; but she saw in his stern brow
and averted eyes, no hope of present reconciliation, and understood
that this form of courtesy sprang only from the habitual good breeding,
that ever, save when passion threw him off his guard, governed all his
actions. She received the plate with a faint smile and a “thank you,”
and made a pretense of eating by shredding the orange and picking to
pieces the bunch of grapes; while Mr. Helmstedt, on his part, made
no pretense whatever, but having served Marguerite, retired to his
chair and book. She looked after him, her heart full to breaking, and
presently rising she rang for her maid, and retired.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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