Part 58 (1/2)
”That was Pius Poirier,” said Agapit, delightedly and ungenerously.
”I shall not tell you. I did wrong to mention him,” said Bidiane, calmly.
”He is a diligent student; he will get on in the world,” said Agapit, more thoughtfully.
”But without me,--I shall never marry.”
”I know a man who loves you,” said Agapit, cautiously.
”Do you?--well, don't tell me. Tell him, if you have his confidence, that he is a goose for his pains,” and Bidiane reclined against her hammock cus.h.i.+ons in supreme indifference.
”But he is very fond of you,” said Agapit, with exquisite gentleness, ”and very unhappy to think that you do not care for him.”
Bidiane held her breath and favored him with a sharp glance. Then she sat up very straight. ”What makes you so pale?”
”I am sympathizing with that poor man.”
”But you are trembling, too.”
”Am I?” and with the pretence of a laugh he turned away.
”_Mon cousin_,” she said, sweetly, ”tell that poor man that I am hoping soon to leave Sleeping Water, and to go out in the world again.”
”No, no, Bidiane, you must not,” he said, turning restlessly on his heel, and coming back to her.
”Yes, I am. I have become very unhappy here. Every one is against me, and I am losing my health. When I came, I was intoxicated with life. I could run for hours. I was never tired. It was a delight to live. Now I feel weary, and like a consumptive. I think I shall die young. My parents did, you know.”
”Yes; they were both drowned. You will pardon me, if I say that I think you have a const.i.tution of iron.”
”You are quite mistaken,” she said, with dignity. ”Time will show that I am right. Unless I leave Sleeping Water at once, I feel that I shall go into a decline.”
”May I ask whether you think it a good plan to leave a place immediately upon matters going wrong with one living in it?”
”It would be for me,” she said, decidedly.
”Then, mademoiselle, you will never find rest for the sole of your foot.”
”I am tired of Sleeping Water,” she said, excitedly quitting the hammock, and looking as if she were about to leave him. ”I wish to get out in the world to do something. This life is unendurable.”
”Bidiane,--dear Bidiane,--you will not leave us?”
”Yes, I will,” she said, decidedly; ”you are not willing for me to have my own way in one single thing. You are not in the least like Mr.
Nimmo,” and holding her head well in the air, she walked towards the house.
”Not like Mr. Nimmo,” said Agapit, with a darkening brow. ”Dear little fool, one would think you had never felt that iron hand in the velvet glove. Because I am more rash and loud-spoken, you misjudge me. You are so young, so foolish, so adorable, so surprised, so intoxicated with what I have said, that you are beside yourself. I am not discouraged, oh, no,” and, with a sudden hopeful smile overspreading his face, he was about to spring into his buggy and drive away, when Bidiane came sauntering back to him.
”I am forgetting the duties of hospitality,” she said, stiffly. ”Will you not come into the house and have something to eat or drink after your long drive?”