The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863Morford, Henry
History
The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863
Morford, Henry
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
It was at the moment when the pageant was just concluding and exclamations
of pleasure breaking from a hundred lips, that "H. T." (who has not as yet
furnished us data for any fuller revelation of his name), standing at some
distance out on the plateau from the piazza, and stepping suddenly backward
to observe a particular effect of the light among the trees on the cliff,
trod upon the foot of a lady immediately behind him and nearly overthrew
her. He turned immediately, with a word of apology, at the same time that a
gentleman near her, who seemed to be in her immediate company, sprang to
prevent her possible fall, venting meanwhile on the presumed awkwardness
of the aggressor a word of ill-disguised petulance:--
"You should be a little more careful, sir, I think, how you step upon
ladies' feet and risk hurting them seriously."
"I beg a thousand pardons!" was the reply. "Certainly I did not know that
there was a lady immediately behind me, and--"
The lady gave a sudden start, caught a quick glance at the speaker, and
then recovered her equanimity so suddenly that perhaps not two of all the
company observed the momentary agitation; while the gentleman interrupted
the attempted apology, not too politely, with--
"Is your foot much injured, Miss Hayley?"
The answer made by the lady was in the negative, and in a tone that, though
it trembled a little, proved her less petulant than her companion. But it
is possible that "H. T.," as he has been known, did not pay that answer any
attention whatever. As he turned he must certainly have seen the lady more
or less distinctly in the moonlight, and yet had manifested no surprise at
what he saw; but when the name was mentioned he gave a start that must have
been noticeable by any acute observer. Had he really not noticed her before
his attention was called by the mention of the name? or was the face one
which he did not recognize while the name bore a talisman that commanded
all his interest? Certain it is that he saw the lady now, distinctly; and
equally certain is it that the face was the same which has met the gaze of
the reader, a month before, on the piazza of the house at West
Philadelphia.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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