She
looked up; she wanted to communicate her joy. Her grandfather looked up
at the same moment, and their eyes met.
"Would you like to read it? It is from my mother," she said, holding out
the letter with an impulse to be good to him.
"I can trust you with your correspondence, Elizabeth," was his reply.
She drew back her hand quickly, and laid down the letter by her plate.
She sipped her tea, her throat aching, her eyes swimming. The squire
began to talk rather fast and loud, and in a few minutes, the meal being
over, he pushed away his chair and left the room.
"The train we go into Norminster by reaches Mitford Junction at ten
thirty-five," observed Mr. Cecil Burleigh.
Bessie rose and vanished with a mutinous air, which made him laugh and
whisper to his sister, as she disappeared, that the young lady had a
rare spirit. Mr. Fairfax was in the hall. She went swiftly up to him,
and laying a hand on his arm, said, in a quivering, resolute voice,
"Read my letter, grandpapa. If you will not recognize those I have the
best right to love, we shall be strangers always, you and I."
"Come up stairs: I will read your letter," said the old man shortly, and
he mounted to her parlor, she still keeping her hold on his arm. He
stood at her table and read it, and laid it down without a word, but,
glancing aside at her pleasing face, he was moved to kiss her, and then
promptly effected his escape from her tyranny.
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