Part 35 (1/2)
”I'm sure it is not.”
”But, Babbie, I want you to know that I despise myself for my base suspicions. No sooner did I see them than I loathed them and myself for harbouring them. Despite this mystery, I look upon you as a n.o.ble-hearted girl. I shall always think of you so.”
This time Babbie did not reply.
”That was all I had to say,” concluded Gavin, ”except that I hope you will not punish Nanny for my sins. Good-bye.”
”Good-bye,” said the Egyptian, who was looking at the well.
The minister's legs could not have heard him give the order to march, for they stood waiting.
”I thought,” said the Egyptian, after a moment, ”that you said you were going.”
”I was only--brus.h.i.+ng my hat,” Gavin answered with dignity. ”You want me to go?”
She bowed, and this time he did set off.
”You can go if you like,” she remarked now.
He turned at this.
”But you said----” he began, diffidently.
”No, I did not,” she answered, with indignation.
He could see her face at last.
”You--you are crying!” he exclaimed, in bewilderment.
”Because you are so unfeeling,” sobbed Babbie.
”What have I said, what have I done?” cried Gavin, in an agony of self-contempt. ”Oh, that I had gone away at once!”
”That is cruel.”
”What is?”
”To say that.”
”What did I say?”
”That you wished you had gone away.”
”But surely,” the minister faltered, ”you asked me to go.”
”How can you say so?” asked the gypsy, reproachfully.
Gavin was distracted. ”On my word,” he said, earnestly, ”I thought you did. And now I have made you unhappy. Babbie, I wish I were anybody but myself; I am a hopeless lout.”
”Now you are unjust,” said Babbie, hiding her face.