A gleam of intelligence shot from the gray eyes of Valencia, who was
in a most unreasonable mood.
"She did not like to stain her hands with the nasty hemlock more than
some other folks," she had said, when, after the trying on of the
bridal dress, Lucy had remonstrated with her for some duty neglected,
and then bidden her to go to the church and help if she were needed.
"I must certainly dismiss you," Lucy had said, wondering how Mrs.
Meredith had borne so long with the insolent girl, who went
unwillingly to the church, where she was at work when the carriage
drove by.
She had thought many times of the letter she had read, and, more than
once, when particularly angry, it had been upon her lips to tell her
mistress that she was not the first whom Mr. Leighton had asked to be
his wife, if, indeed, she was his choice at all; but there was
something in Lucy's manner which held her back; besides which, she
was, perhaps, unwilling to confess to her own meanness in reading the
stolen letter.
"I could tell them something if I would," she thought, as she bent
over the hemlock boughs and listened to the remarks; but, for that
time, she kept the secret and worked on moodily, while the
unsuspecting Lucy went her way and was soon alighting at the rectory
gate.
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