"So far
as I am concerned--certainly," she said. "I shall never unlock any
cupboards."
"Better to burn the contents, perhaps," he laughed. "I tell you fairly, I
had rather they were cleared out. Now, I'll confess to anything you please
to ask me. That's a firm offer." He would probably have done it, but she
told him that she had no questions to put. "Very well, my dear," he said.
"Have it as you will. It's sublime of you--but it's not love. If you don't
want to know it's because you don't care."
"No, indeed," she sighed, with such conviction that he was stung.
"Hang it all, Sancie," he cried, "you can't have known me for eight years
without feeling something." She looked up at him, and he saw that her eyes
were full.
"Oh, Nevile," she said, with a quivering lip, "don't let us look back.
Indeed, I can't do it now." He put his arm round her and, drawing her
closer, kissed her forehead. "My pretty one, we won't. I had much rather
look forward. The future is to be my affair--if the past was yours." Then
he went away, and she saw nothing of him for two days. On the second of
them he dined with Lady Maria, and met some of the Percivals--the father
and mother, the Sinclairs, and Mr.
Pages:
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378