ke to press any more inquiries with reference to Mr
Mawley's rumoured engagement, thinking they would look too pointed,
disclosing my interest in the affair,--however much I was transported
with the feelings of mingled jealousy, doubt, and uncertainty, that were
preying on my heart; consequently, I now took my leave, all the
suspicions and fears, which Shuffler's news had given rise to, more rife
than ever:--the renewed hope that Miss Pimpernell's cheery address had
inspired me with, completely dispelled.
I'm afraid my anxiety was only too apparent; for, Seraphine Dasher
whispered to me as I went out, "I don't believe a word of it, there! It
is only one of those absurd `true stories' that ma is always getting
hold of."
But I wouldn't be comforted.
It was only likely enough. Mawley was constantly going there, as Lady
Dasher had said, and Mrs Clyde encouraged him, there could be no doubt;
there must be something in it, or these reports would never have got
about. "There is never any smoke without fire."
Besides, Min herself did not dislike the curate as I did.
I could see that plainly for myself the night of that birthday party at
her house. His insinuating address and treacherous advances had
probably succeeded at last in entrapping her affections.
False, cruel girl that she was, how could she encourage me as she had
done, to nurse delusive hopes which, as she must have known, would only
end in disappointment! What had been probably sport to her was death to
me!
And yet, I _could_ not believe it of her.
My pure angel-natured Min, with her darling madonna-like face and
honest, trustful grey eyes, to act like this?
No. It could not be. It was impossible.
Still, the very next day I saw her walking out alone with the curate.
It must be true, then, I thought; and I ground my teeth in anguish.
I determined to avoid her, never passing her house as I had been
previously accustomed to; and, only bowing coldly when I met her in the
street.
At last she spoke to me one day, as I was coming out of the vicarage.
She was just going to knock at the door; so I encountered her face to
face on the step, without a chance of escape.
She held out her hand to me.
I took it mechanically, and then let it drop; raising my hat at the same
time, without saying a word.
She addressed me with heightened colour and a wistful look in the deep,
grey eyes.
"Why are you so angry with me, Frank?" she asked in
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