I leave your service from
this hour. Your dinner is a-making, and Emma is a steady worker." She
turned to Sanchia. "The best vegetable-hand I ever had under me, Miss
Percival, and I've had a score." One further cut at Ingram she allowed
herself. "I would not take a penny piece of your money now, not to save my
darling from the lions."
"You won't get it, you know," said Ingram. "But you've had lots of 'em."
She braved that truth.
"And earned them, Mr. Ingram, as you know, better than I do."
Ingram, ignoring her, observed quietly to Sanchia, "The sooner the better,
I think."
That was the manner of his farewell.
It was not the way she would have chosen to leave; but she reasoned with
herself, as she packed her belongings, that it was probably the best way.
It gave no time and little inclination for sentiment. Now, it was almost
certain that had a term been ahead of her, whose end could be felt
nearing, there would have been good-byes, last interviews, and last
interviews but one, which are apt to be more poignant than those of the
last moment of all. Even as it was there were threatenings of emotion.
Wanless was stirred deeply. Mr. Menzies brought in a nosegay, and grasped
her hand.
Pages:
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200