Part One
Chapter 7: They Return
(continued)
"I trust not. One would always pray against that."
"He is really--I think he was taken by surprise, just as I was
before. But this time I'm not to blame; I want you to believe
that. I simply slipped into those violets. No, I want to be
really truthful. I am a little to blame. I had silly thoughts.
The sky, you know, was gold, and the ground all blue, and for
a moment he looked like some one in a book."
"In a book?"
"Heroes--gods--the nonsense of schoolgirls."
"And then?"
"But, Charlotte, you know what happened then."
Miss Bartlett was silent. Indeed, she had little more to learn.
With a certain amount of insight she drew her young cousin
affectionately to her. All the way back Lucy's body was shaken by
deep sighs, which nothing could repress.
"I want to be truthful," she whispered. "It is so hard to be
absolutely truthful."
"Don't be troubled, dearest. Wait till you are calmer. We will
talk it over before bed-time in my room."
So they re-entered the city with hands clasped. It was a shock to
the girl to find how far emotion had ebbed in others. The storm
had ceased, and Mr. Emerson was easier about his son. Mr. Beebe
had regained good humour, and Mr. Eager was already snubbing Miss
Lavish. Charlotte alone she was sure of--Charlotte, whose
exterior concealed so much insight and love.
The luxury of self-exposure kept her almost happy through the
long evening. She thought not so much of what had happened as of
how she should describe it. All her sensations, her spasms of
courage, her moments of unreasonable joy, her mysterious
discontent, should be carefully laid before her cousin. And
together in divine confidence they would disentangle and
interpret them all.
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