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I say that no man has a right to keep a woman's letters back from her years after any friendship there may have been between them is over. It is not the action of an honorable man. Sir Wingrave Seton has placed himself outside the pale of honorable men." "Your judgment," Aynesworth answered quietly, "seems to me severe. Sir Wingrave Seton has been the victim of peculiar circumstances."
Nothing," said Lady Cayley, "can make up for the loss of a good man's love. Except," she added, "a good woman's." "Quite so," he assented coldly, with horror at his perception of her drift. His coldness riled her. "Who," said she with emphasis, "is the lady who keeps making those awful eyes at us over Pussy's top-knot?" "That lady," said Majendie, "as it happens, is my wife."
Ere another sunset, if a woman's heart were not his for the winning, he would be swinging, grisly enough, with his tongue through his teeth, and the ravens wheeling about his ears, upon the Paris gallows.
"I shouldn't wonder if it was a'most as far as from here to Queechy Run, now, ain't it?" The distance mentioned being somewhere about one-eighth of New York's longest diameter, Fleda answered that it was quite as far. "I s'pose there's plenty o' mighty rich folks there, ain't there?" "Plenty, I believe," said Fleda. "I should hate to live in it awfully!" was the old woman's conclusion.
When I spoke about the dead captain's wife, and said that her features were still lifelike, there was a murmur of incredulity; none of the men would believe that I was not romancing. But the young lieutenant here interposed. "Let the lad go on with his yarn," he said. "Believe me it's quite possible that the woman's face should show no signs of death.
"That's a woman's way of looking at things." He was conscious of speaking somewhat unkindly; but he was hurt by her lack of sympathy. Instead, however, of smoothing things over, he was impelled, by an unconquerable impulse, to disclose himself still further. "Besides, that's not all," he said, and avoided her eyes. "There's something else, and I may just as well make a clean breast of it.
The churchman bowed in acquiescence, and poor Louise, who, during this debate, had looked from the one speaker to the other, hastily said, "I will not scandalise this good man with my foolish garb: I have a mantle for ordinary wear." "Why, there, Smith, thou hast a friar's hood and a woman's mantle to shroud thee under. I would all my frailties were as well shrouded.
"Miss Ruth," said he, "if I had to choose, I would rather be your friend than any other woman's lover." "That is settled, then," she returned, with heightened color. "We will not refer to this again;" and she brushed away a butterfly that was fluttering about her conceitedly in its new golden corselet.
I felt Sally's small fingers clutching my arm like sharp pincers. I bit my lips to keep them shut. What if Steele had heard her say that? Poor, noble, justice-loving, blind girl! She knew even less than I hoped. I forced my thought to the question immediately at hand. She gloried in the Ranger's work. She wanted with all her heart to see him succeed in it. She had a woman's pride in his manliness.
To leave him, so beloved, alone with that sorrow in strange lands, was a thought not to be cherished by a friend so tender; for in the friendship of this man there was that sort of tenderness which completes a nature, thoroughly manlike, by giving it a touch of the woman's.
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