The Flower of the Flock, Volume 3 (of 3)Egan, Pierce
General
The Flower of the Flock, Volume 3 (of 3)
Egan, Pierce
Fiction
Colonel Mires impulsively placed himself before her and intercepted her.
He was conscious the moment had arrived for him to effect his plan, and
make her compulsorily his bride or resign her for ever to the arms of
another.
His heart, at the bare thought of the alternative, seemed to be plunged
into the centre of a flaming furnace, and the sight of her exquisitely
beautiful but certainly very much astonished features roused his worst
passions, so as entirely to shut out the suggestions of caution, reason
or justice.
“Pardon me, Miss Wilton,” he said, in a voice which actually trembled
with excitement, “for appearing thus abruptly before you, as well as for
desiring to detain you for a few minutes while I make a communication to
you of an important character--at least to my future happiness.”
“Your pardon in return, Colonel Mires,” she interposed, frigidly; “any
communication you may desire to make to me must be made at the Hall, and
in presence of my father!”
“Ordinarily, Miss Wilton, such would be the proper mode, I confess; but
there are occasions which override etiquette, and this is one of them.”
As Colonel Mires had always treated her with a profound and tender
respect, no fear of him entered her mind. She disliked him because
he had acted so rudely and contemptuously to Hal, and because his
attentions to herself had become sufficiently marked to be offensive to
her. She would not, therefore, have hesitated to remain if it had been a
mere question of reliance upon his gentlemanly conduct; but the instinct
of danger so quickly felt by women when there is real danger at hand
raised in her a desire to be away from that lonely place, and, without
replying to his observation, she moved on to depart. Once more he stayed
her by intercepting her progress.
“Excuse me, Miss Wilton,” he said, “you must hear me.”
Her soft eye glittered, an angry expression appeared upon her fair
face, so lovely, even in its ruffled aspect, as to make the heart of the
Colonel ache with an intensity of passion.
“Colonel Mires,” she said, sternly, “you forget alike what is due to my
position and your own.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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