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But the shadow that had fallen on Effie's face at her first words did not pass away as she continued to speak; and it was with eyes opened to see "the beginning of the end" that she came into her father's chamber. She did not leave him again. Christie slept on the couch near him; but all night long Effie sat with her eyes fixed on her father's changing face.
You have no occasion to be abashed; tell your story simply, as you did to me." "I am much obliged to your Grace," said Jeanie, remembering Mrs. Glass's charge, "and I am sure, since I have had the courage to speak to your Grace in poor Effie's cause, I have less reason to be shame-faced in speaking to a leddy.
That proves that she's forgotten!" was his first half-ironic thought; but the next moment, with a pang of compunction, he said to himself that she had probably put it on for the same reason as before: simply because she hadn't any other. He looked at her in silence, and for an instant, above Effie's bobbing head, she gave him back his look in a full bright gaze. "Oh, there's Owen!"
The "home" and "then" were the last drops added to Christie's cup of sad memories; and the overflow could no longer be stayed. She kept her face turned away from her sister, but could not hide the struggle within, and at Effie's very first word her sobs broke forth. "What is the matter, Christie? There must be something you have not told me about. You are weary: that is it.
Behind him he heard Effie's call, and at the child's voice he saw Sophy turn her head with the alertness of one who is obscurely on the watch. The look was so fugitive that he could not have said wherein it differed from her normal professional air of having her pupil on her mind. Effie sprang past them, and Darrow took up the girl's challenge. "What you suggest about Mrs.
The problem of Effie's future might have disturbed her, she added; but since Anna, for a time, consented to leave the little girl with her, that problem was at any rate deferred. She spoke plaintively of the responsibility of looking after her granddaughter, but Darrow divined that she enjoyed the flavour of the word more than she felt the weight of the fact. "Effie's a perfect child.
I had lived out my first rush of passion for Effie, had come to a contemplation of my position. I had gauged Effie's place in the scheme of things, and parted from her for a time. She was back in her place at Raggett Street after a temporary indisposition.
She said that they had been talking all winter of going to Fiesole, where Imogene had never been yet; and upon comparison it appeared that none of them had yet been to Fiesole except herself. Then they must all go together, she said; the carriage would hold four very comfortably. "Ah! that leaves me out," said Colville, who had caught sight of Effie's fallen countenance. "Oh no. How is that?
But even then the reaction was on the spring; the rebound was to be fearful and fatal. The teller at the bank had been struck with Effie's manner; and the non-counting of the notes had roused a suspicion, which fought its way even against the improbability of a mere girl perpetrating a crime from which females are generally free.
I think it so sweet of you to come to see us, and under the circumstances. Don't you think it is sweet of her, Walter, dear?" Squire Harvey had more perception of character than his wife. He noticed how white Effie's face grew; he noticed the pathetic trembling of her hands. "My dear," he said, "perhaps Miss Staunton wishes to see me by herself.
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