FullReads

“So you took my advice, and our afternoon walk was not wasted, after all?”

Mrs. Polton is not used to these fine flights of diplomacy; she had heard before dinner something of what had actually happened in the afternoon; and the simple woman positively jumped. Jack Ives met Trix’s scornful eyes full and square.

“Not at all wasted,” said he, with a smile. “Not only has it shown me where my true happiness lies, but it has also given me a juster idea of the value and sincerity of your regard for me, Miss Queenborough.”

“It is as real, Mr. Ives, as it is sincere,” said she.

“It is like yourself, Miss Queenborough,” said he, with a little bow; and he turned from her and began to talk to his fiancee.

Trix Queenborough moved slowly toward where I sat. Newhaven was watching her from where he stood alone on the other side of the room.

“And have you no news for us?” I asked in low tones.

“Thank you,” she said haughtily; “I don’t care that mine should be a pendent to the great tidings about the little widow and curate.”

After a moment’s pause she went on:

“He lost no time, did he? He was wise to secure her before what happened this afternoon could leak out. Nobody can tell her now.”

“This afternoon?”

“He asked me to marry him this afternoon.”

“And you refused?”

“Yes.”

“Well, his behavior is in outrageously bad taste, but—-“

She laid a hand on my arm, and said in calm, level tones.

“I refused him because I dared not have him; but I told him I cared for him, and he said he loved me. And I let him kiss me. Good-night, Mr. Wynne.”

I sat still and silent. Newhaven came across to us. Trix put up her hand and caught him by the sleeve.

“Fred,” she said, “my dear, honest old Fred; you love me, don’t you?”

Newhaven, much embarrassed and surprised, looked at me in alarm. But her hand was in his now, and her eyes imploring him.

“I should rather think I did, my dear,” said he.

I really hope that Lord and Lady Newhaven will not be very unhappy, while Mrs. Ives quite worships her husband, and is convinced that she eclipsed the brilliant and wealthy Miss Queenborough.

Perhaps she did–perhaps not.

There are, as I have said, great qualities in the curate of Poltons, but I have not quite made up my mind precisely what they are. I ought, however, to say that Dora takes a more favorable view of him and a less lenient view of Trix than I.

That is perhaps natural. Besides, Dora does not know the precise manner in which the curate was refused. By the way, he preached next Sunday on the text, “The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light.”