And now I think that we must be getting home,"
and she went, leaving this poisoned shaft to rankle in his breast.
After they had returned to the vicarage and Beatrice had heard Effie her
prayers and tucked her up in her small white bed, she went down to the
gate to be quiet for a little while before supper. Geoffrey had not yet
come in.
It was a lovely autumn evening; the sea seemed to sleep, and the little
clouds, from which the sunset fires had paled, lay like wreaths of
smoke upon the infinite blue sky. Why had not Mr. Bingham come back,
she wondered; he would scarcely have time to dress. Supposing that an
accident had happened to him. Nonsense! what accident could happen? He
was so big and strong he seemed to defy accidents; and yet had it not
been for her there would be little enough left of his strength to-day.
Ah! she was glad that she had lived to be able to save him from death.
There he came, looming like a giant in the evening mist.
There was a small hand-gate beside the large one on which she leant.
Geoffrey stalked straight up to it as though he did not see her; he saw
her well enough, but he was cross with her.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229