Part 24 (2/2)
Delia looked at him uneasily--biting her lip.
”Let us go back to Latchford, Mr. Winnington, and find a doctor.”
”Oh dear no! I'm only pumped for a moment. It's going off. I'm perfectly fit. When I've taken you home, I shall go in to our Maumsey man, and get tied up.”
There was silence. The hedges and fields flew by outside, under the light of the motor, stars overhead, Delia's heart was full of wrath and humiliation.
”Mr. Winnington--”
”Yes!” He sat up, apparently quite revived.
”Mr. Winnington--for Heaven's sake--do give me up!”
He looked at her with amused astonishment.
”Give you up!--How?”
”Give up being my guardian! I really can't stand it. I--I don't mind what happens to myself. But it's too bad that I should be forced to--to make myself such a nuisance to you--or desert all my principles. It's not fair to _me_--that's what I feel--it's not indeed!” she insisted stormily.
He saw her dimly as she spoke--the beautiful oval of the face, the white brow, the general graciousness of line, so feminine, in truth!--so appealing. The darkness hid away all that shewed the ”female franzy.” Distress of mind--distress for his trumpery wound?--had shaken her, brought her back to youth and childishness? Again he felt a rush of sympathy--of tender concern.
”Do you think you would do any better with a guardian chosen by the Court?” he asked her, smiling, after a moment's pause.
”Of course I should! I shouldn't mind fighting a stranger in the least.”
”They would be very unlikely to appoint a stranger. They would probably name Lord Frederick.”
”He wouldn't dream of taking it!” she said, startled. ”And you know he is the laziest of men.”
They both laughed. But her laugh was a sound of agitation, and in the close contact of the motor he was aware of her quick breathing.
”Well, it's true he never answers a letter,” said Winnington. ”But I suppose he's ill.”
”He's been a _malade imaginaire_ all his life, and he isn't going to begin to put himself out for anybody now!” she said, scornfully.
”Your aunt, Miss Blanchflower?”
”I haven't spoken to her for years. She used to live with us when I was eighteen. She tried to boss me, and set father against me. But I got the best of her.”
”I am sure you did,” said Winnington.
She broke out--
”Oh, I know you think me a perfectly impossible creature whom n.o.body could ever get on with!”
He paused a moment, then said gravely--
”No, I don't think anything of the kind. But I do think that, given what you want, you are going entirely the wrong way to get it.”
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