"I overheard," said Beth. "Tell me, Tom, is she really like Lucy?"
He looked at her with a dazed expression, as if he scarcely comprehended
her words.
"Could you have been mistaken?" persisted the questioner.
He passed his hand over his eyes and gave a shudder.
"Either it was Lucy or her ghost," he muttered.
"Eliza Parsons is no ghost," declared Beth. "She's one of the maids here
at Elmhurst, and you're quite likely to see her again."
"Has she been here long?" he asked, eagerly.
"No; only a few days."
"Oh!"
"When I first saw her I was struck by her resemblance to Mrs. Rogers,"
continued the girl.
"But she's so different," said Tom, choking back a sob. "Lucy couldn't
be so--so airy, so heartless. She isn't at all that style of a girl,
miss."
"She may be acting," suggested Beth.
But he shook his head gloomily.
"No; Lucy couldn't act that way. She's quick and impulsive, but she--she
couldn't act. And she wouldn't treat me that way, either, Miss Beth.
Lucy and I have been sweethearts for years, and I know every expression
of her dear face. But the look that this girl gave me was one that my
Lucy never could assume. I must have been mistaken. I--I'm sure I was
mistaken."
Beth sighed.
Pages:
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146