down the parting of the ways. But they flew swiftly back, stabbing all
hesitancies....
She wished as much as any one that it had all been started differently,
as it might have been had she been perfectly certain in advance that no
one would dare say anything the least bit horrid about her. It was not
her fault that gossip was so notoriously unreliable. And now it was
simply impossible to rake up the whole subject again, just when it was
all settled, and go through another long explanation with mamma. Of
course she didn't believe all this about Dalhousie's being ruined and
disgraced forever: that was just the man's way of working on her
feelings and trying to frighten her. She knew very well that the whole
thing would blow over in a few days, if just quietly left to itself.
And what use, whispered the returning thoughts, would the unknown make
of the "little statement" he begged so for? What would mamma say, for
instance, to a black-typed piece-in-the-paper in the "Post" to-morrow?
And what of Mr. Canning--nudged the wise thoughts--the happiness symbol
on the piazza, whose princely feet were so plainly twitching to thunder
behind?...
No; clearly the only sensible thing to do was to end all the talk and
quibbling at once, definitely. Carlisle took a step forward over the dim
chequered floor, resolute as her mother.
"I can't add anything to what I've already said. I cannot let you detain
me any longer."
Her advance had brought her fully into what light there was, falling
mistily through lattice and door. And at the look in her eyes, young Dr.
Vivian's hands fell dead without a struggle at his sides. His tall
figure seemed mysteriously to shrink and collapse inside his clothes. He
said, oddly, nothing whatever. Yet an hour's oration could not have
conveyed more convincingly his sense of irreparable disaster.
The instantaneous cessation of his verbal flow curiously piqued the
girl's attention. Face to face as they stood, she was struck quite
sharply with an elusive something that seemed to cling to this man's
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