“Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. Don't ask any more questions. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. While the strife was raging, Edgeworth Bess walked up to Rachel, and advised her, if she valued her life, not to scream or stir from the spot; a caution which the housekeeper, whose curiosity far outweighed her fears, received in very good part. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. ” “Sorry.
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