She had done so on this afternoon, and had left him
without giving him her hand to press, without looking up into his
face with an assurance of love, and therefore she was angry with
herself. "I know I shall teach him to hate me," she said out loud
to Bell.
"That would be very sad," said Bell; "but I don't see it."
"If you were engaged to a man you would be much better to him. You
would not say so much, but what you did say would be all affection. I
am always making horrid little speeches, for which I should like to
cut out my tongue afterwards."
"Whatever sort of speeches they are, I think that he likes them."
"Does he? I'm not all so sure of that, Bell. Of course I don't expect
that he is to scold me,--not yet, that is. But I know by his eye when
he is pleased and when he is displeased."
And then they went down to their dinner.
Up at the Great House the three gentlemen met together in apparent
good humour. Bernard Dale was a man of an equal temperament, who
rarely allowed any feeling, or even any annoyance, to interfere
with his usual manner,--a man who could always come to table with
a smile, and meet either his friend or his enemy with a properly
civil greeting.
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