Part 31 (1/2)
”Why? Are you ashamed for me to hear what any strolling stranger, any unscrupulous vagabond, might have listened to?”
”It is such a desolate, lonely place, I thought no one would stumble upon me, and I have been there so often without meeting a living thing except the crabs and plover.”
”You are no longer a child, and such rashness is altogether unpardonable. What do you suppose my sister would think of your imprudent obstinacy?”
They walked another mile, and again Salome convulsively pressed the cool, steady, strong hand, in which hers lay hot and quivering.
”Dr. Grey, tell me the truth,--don't torture me.”
”What shall I tell you? You torture yourself.”
”Did you hear what I was saying to my own heart?”
”I heard you repeating some lines which certainly should possess no relevancy for the real feeling of my young friend.”
She s.n.a.t.c.hed her fingers from his, and he knew she covered her face with them.
They reached the gate at the end of the avenue, and Salome stopped suddenly, as the lights from the front windows flashed out on the lawn.
”Go in, and leave me.”
She threw herself on the sward, under one of the elm-trees, and leaned her head against its trunk.
”I shall do no such thing, unless you desire the entire household to comment upon your reckless conduct.”
”Oh, Dr. Grey, I care little now what the whole world thinks or says!
Let me be quiet, or I shall go mad.”
”No; come into the house, and sing something to compensate me for the anxiety and fatigue you have cost me. I do not often ask a favor of you, and certainly in this instance you will not refuse to grant my request.”
She did not reply, and he bent down and softly stroked the hair that was damp with dew and sea-fog.
The long-pent storm broke in convulsive sobs, and she trembled from head to foot, while tears poured over her burning cheeks.
”Poor child! Can you not confide in me?”
”Dr. Grey, will you forget all that has pa.s.sed to-day? Will you try never to think of it again?”
”On condition that you never repeat the offence.”
”You do not despise me?”
”No.”
”You pity me?”
”I pity any human being who is so unfortunate as to possess your wilful, perverse, pa.s.sionate disposition. Unless you overcome this dangerous tendency of character, you may expect only wretchedness and humiliation in coming years. I am sincerely sorry for you, but I tell you unhesitatingly, that I find it difficult to tolerate your grave and obtrusive faults.”