Elizabeth made no comment on his offer, and before Mr. Granger's profuse
thanks were nearly finished, Geoffrey was gone.
Three weeks passed at Bryngelly, and Elizabeth still held her hand.
Beatrice, pale and spiritless, went about her duties as usual. Elizabeth
never spoke to her in any sense that could awaken her suspicions, and
the ghost story was, or appeared to be, pretty well forgotten. But at
last an event occurred that caused Elizabeth to take the field. One day
she met Owen Davies walking along the beach in the semi-insane way which
he now affected. He stopped, and, without further ado, plunged into
conversation.
"I can't bear it any longer," he said wildly, throwing up his arms. "I
saw her yesterday, and she cut me short before I could speak a word. I
have prayed for patience and it will not come, only a Voice seemed
to say to me that I must wait ten days more, ten short days, and then
Beatrice, my beautiful Beatrice, would be my wife at last."
"If you go on in this way, Mr. Davies," said Elizabeth sharply, her
heart filled with jealous anger, "you will soon be off your head.
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