Prev | Current Page 581 | Next

Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"A Woman-Hater"

Her heart leaped. Perhaps he had come to explain
all. He might not choose to go to Vizard Court. What if he had been
watching as anxiously as herself, and had seized the first opportunity!
In a moment her pale cheek rivaled carmine.
The girl brought up a card--
"LORD UXMOOR."
The color died away directly. "Say I am very sorry, but at this moment I
cannot leave my aunt."
The girl stared with amazement, and took down the message.
Uxmoor rode away.
Zoe felt a moment's pleasure. No, if she could not see the right man, she
would not see the wrong. That, at least, was in her power.
Nevertheless, in the course of the day, remembering Uxmoor's worth, and
the pain she had already given him, she was almost sorry she had indulged
herself at his expense.
Superfluous contrition! He came next day, as a matter of course. She
liked him none the better for coming, but she went downstairs to him.
He came toward her, but started back and uttered an exclamation. "You are
not well," he said, in tones of tenderness and dismay.
"Not very," she faltered; for his open manly concern touched her.
"And you have come here to nurse this old lady? Indeed, Miss Vizard, you
need nursing yourself.


Pages:
569 570 571 572 573 574 575 576 577 578 579 580 581 582 583 584 585 586 587 588 589 590 591 592 593