Part 4 (2/2)
”And we have been warned,” the girl says, with a bitter smile, ”and we have not held our tongues, and therefore harm will come to us.”
As the words pa.s.s her lips she s.h.i.+vers, remembering Aileen's warnings.
It seems to her that Power's face has grown harsh and cruel, like the face of a man who is her judge more than her lover.
”Honor, do you want to break my heart? You know how I love you, have loved you always. Launce hates me--your father has plainly said he will 'never give his only girl to a rebel;' and I am that in his opinion.
But why should they stand between us, my darling? What right has any man to come between such love as ours?”
”No man can come between us, Power. Have I not given you my plighted word? But, if my father and brother are in danger, my place is with them. You see that, don't you?”
The beautiful face is close to his own; he feels the clasp of her soft hands in his, and suddenly, with a sigh that is almost a groan, he takes her into his arms and kisses her pa.s.sionately.
CHAPTER IV.
”Oh, Honor, is it true?” Belle Delorme cries breathlessly, as she meets her friend midway on the Rectory lawn. ”Launce has been telling us--but sure he laughed so we couldn't believe him--that the old abbot has begun to walk again.”
”It is quite true that people say he has,” Honor answers guardedly.
She is pale to-day, and there is a weary look in her eyes that give a pathetic expression to the whole face.
”And he has really been seen, dear?” exclaims Belle, raising her hands in dismay. ”Oh, but it is dreadful! Sure we never thought such things could happen in our day.”
”What a goose you are!” Launce says, coming up at this moment. ”Such things, as you call them, never happened and never will; it's all a hoax--some scamps doing it for a lark; and one of these nights when I've nothing better to do, I'll go down and ferret out the rascal.”
”Oh, no, no, Launce, dear! Promise me that you'll do nothing of the kind,” Belle cries in genuine distress. ”It would be madness. If the old abbot is walking, depend upon it it is for some good reason; trouble is coming to the family in some shape of form.”
But Launce only laughs at her, and even Honor will not confess her belief in this supernatural visitor.
”If it could tell us anything,” she says in her grave way, ”it would be different--good might come of it; as it is, it does nothing but scare away visitors and keep our servants in such a state of terror that they can't attend to their work. It is really very disagreeable.”
”Oh, Honor darling, how can you talk like that?” Belle cries with a little s.h.i.+ver. ”I declare you are almost as bad as Launce.”
The lawn at Donaghmore rectory is covered with guests. A table has been set under the trees, and Mrs. Delorme, in a delightfully cool-looking dress and with delicate ribbons in her lace cap, is busy making tea.
There are pretty colors, gay voices and bursts of musical laughter on every hand.
Some of the girls are good-looking, more than one or two are handsome; and the men in their tennis flannels and gay caps show well by contrast.
”Your cousin is here--he is staying with the Frenches--so mamma had to ask him,” Belle whispers almost nervously; and the next moment Honor finds herself face to face with Brian Beresford.
She has never seen him since that day he stooped and kissed her under the cherry-trees. Honor's cheeks turn crimson as she remembers that pa.s.sionate kiss.
”Does he think of it?” she wonders as she meets his eyes.
”I thought you had gone back to England,” she says. She hardly knows what she does say, so stupid is she feeling.
<script>