The Laughing Mill, and Other StoriesHawthorne, Julian
Philosophy
The Laughing Mill, and Other Stories
Hawthorne, Julian
American fiction -- 19th century
"'Love me!' she repeated slowly, and caught her breath; her eyes fixed
themselves on me with an inward look, as of intense reverie. 'It must
not be--it must not be! but he does love me!' Her hands fell in her lap;
there were tears now in her eyes, but a smile quivered over her lips.
"'Why do you say it must not be, Kate? It is! It shall be!' I took her
hand, which she scarcely attempted to withdraw; I felt that I had won
her, and would hold her against all comers. Just then a knock came at
the door; she snatched her hand away and rose to her feet. Mr. Slurk
entered.
"'The band is going to play in the court,' he said in German. 'I have
kept chairs and a table for the lady and gentleman beneath the trees.'
He made a low obeisance as he spoke, but his malignant glance never
swerved from Kate; and she, half turning towards him, seemed impelled
by a power stronger than her own will to meet it, though slightly
shivering the while with pure aversion. For my own part, I longed with
all my heart to kick the varlet into the hall, or throw him out of the
window. But prudence warned me to bide my time. If I obtained the
footing to which I aspired in Mr. Birchmore's family, I would settle
summarily with Mr. Slurk; meanwhile, I should best consult my interests
by conducting myself with all due quietness and decorum. I offered Kate
my arm to lead her from the room; but with a barely perceptible gesture
she declined it, and walked swiftly before me through the doorway,
Slurk making another deep obeisance as we passed. The fellow had a
smooth unimpeachable way of getting the better of one that made my
blood boil; I commanded myself not without an effort, and nursed my
wrath to keep it warm.
"When we reached the court, the brass band had established itself in the
little pagoda erected there for its accommodation, and was just striking
up; and there, sure enough, were a table and chairs awaiting us beneath
the trees. But neither of us was in a humour to face a crowd of people;
and by a tacit agreement we turned to the right, and crossing the little
plank bridge which spanned the narrow stream that skirted the hotel
grounds, we found ourselves in the high-road leading up the valley.
Along this we walked for some distance, both of us silent; at length
the opening of a path presented itself, which climbed by a zigzag route
to the summit of the pine-clad hill. Into this we turned, and in a
few moments were out of sight of alien eyes amidst the thick-growing
hemlocks. The ascent was steep, and at the first turning in the path my
beautiful companion paused for breath.
"'Will you take my arm now, Kate?' I said.
"With a faint smile she complied. 'Just for this once,' I heard her
murmur, seemingly speaking to herself. 'Never again--but this once I
will!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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