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Might he not, in so doing, have succoured the one life only to risk the other? Were Manisty's the hands in which to place a personality so noble and so trusting as that of the young girl? But these qualms did not last long. As we have seen he had an invincible tenderness for Manisty. And in his priestly view women were the adjuncts and helpers of men.
Manisty's mocking look in the Piazza of St. Peter's his unkindness to his cousin his sweetness to his friend the aspect, now petulant, even childish, and now gracious and commanding beyond any other she had ever known, which he had worn at Nemi.
Yet he had been five years in the cavalry; he was admirably educated; he wrote a better hand than Manisty's own, and when his engagement at the villa came to an end he was already, thanks to a very fair scientific knowledge, engaged as manager in a firework factory in Rome. Lucy's look pursued the short flying figure of the butler with a smiling kindness.
The table laughed. Lucy, looking down it, caught first the face of Eleanor Burgoyne, and in the distance Manisty's black head and absent smile. The girl's young mind was captured by a sudden ghastly sense of the human realities underlying the gay aspects and talk of the luncheon-table. It seemed to her she still heard that heart-rending voice of Mrs. Burgoyne: 'Oh!
'Sapphira was nothing to me! thought Eleanor as she threw herself back in the old shabby landau with a weariness of body that made little impression however on the tension of her mind. Absently she looked out at the trees above and around her; at the innumerable turns of the road. So the great meeting was over! Manisty's reproaches had come and gone!
Manisty's second cousin she had lost her husband and child in some frightful accident she was not going to marry Mr. Manisty at least nobody said so and though she went to mass, she was not a Catholic, but on the contrary a Scotch Presbyterian, by birth, being the daughter of a Scotch laird of old family one General Delafield Muir ?
And I know, for I made him read some of it to me and my sister. No; it is a strange case is Manisty's. Most Englishmen have two sides to their brain while we Latins have only one. But Manisty is like a Latin he has only one. He takes a whim, and then he must cut and carve the world to it. But the world is tough et ca ne marche pas! We can't go to ruin to please him.
Was the passage of Manisty's being through the world to be for her ineffaceable? so that earth and air retained the impress of his form and voice, and only her tortured heart and sense were needed to make the phantom live and walk and speak again? She began to pray brokenly and desperately, as she had often prayed during the last few weeks.
And as all was quiet in her room, Dalgetty hoped that this time the medicine would prove to be a friend, and not a foe, and that the poor lady would wake up calmer and less distraught. She was certainly worse much worse. The maid guessed at Mr. Manisty's opinion; she divined the approach of some important step.
Eleanor turning from his tragic simplicity to Manisty's ill-concealed worry and impatience, pitied both. That poor Father Benecke should have brought his grief to Manisty, on this afternoon of all afternoons! It had been impossible to refuse to see him. He had come a pilgrimage from Rome and could not be turned away.
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