Читать книгу A Comedy of Elopement онлайн

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“The rest—that is, the falsehood!” cried Aimée, indignantly. “O Fanny, how can you ask it—how can you? I did not mind what I did last night, though it was hard enough. I would do that, or anything else of the kind, over again. But this I can not, I will not, do!”

“Then,” said Fanny, sitting down with a gesture of despair, “there is simply no hope, and I wish I had gone with Lennox. It is useless for me to face Mr. Meredith again. If I told him that you refused to come, he would never believe that it was not me last night. Well,” with a long-drawn sigh, “I suppose it serves me right. But I am sorry for poor mamma.”

Sobs followed, while Aimée sat staring at the wall before her. Fanny’s grief did not touch her as much as it should have done, perhaps, for she understood exactly the degree and quality of the regard which that young lady entertained for Mr. Meredith, and she did not yet realize that disappointment over the loss of possible diamonds might be as acute as that over the loss of a lover. But the allusion to Mrs. Berrien had more effect. Aimée knew that her aunt’s heart was set upon Fanny’s marrying Mr. Meredith, and for her aunt Aimée felt that she was bound to do much—for was she not the only person in the world who had ever given a thought to her sad girlhood, or attempted to throw a little sunshine upon it? There was not much in common between Mrs. Berrien and her niece; but on the side of the latter there was a deep sense of gratitude. “Should I hesitate to do anything for Aunt Alice, who has done so much for me?” she asked herself. It was this she was thinking while Fanny sobbed.