: Mabel: A Novel. Vol. 3 (of 3) by Newby C J Mrs - Fiction

@FreeBooksWed 07 Jun, 2023

Posted in: #FreeBooks #FreeBooksIndia #FreeBooksApp #gg

Vote Up Vote Down

he not say as much, though I was not going to let him have me whenever he liked."

"Yes, that was true," thought Mabel, "he had said he meant the horse for her, and for how long after had he been sad and thoughtful." She felt a choking sensation of pain, "had she then so thoughtlessly been keeping them asunder, while she only talked of her own affairs. Were not these almost the only kind words he had addressed to her, since she had entered the house--how wrong she had been to prize them so highly." As these quick thoughts passed through her mind, withering as they did the effects of the glad sunshine which had preceded them, she turned her eyes timidly and almost apologetically to Hargrave. There was a look of deep seated annoyance on his face. "Ah, he thinks I shall still refuse to take the hint"--she thought--and laying her hand lightly on the pommel, she quickly disengaged herself from the saddle, and jumped down before Hargrave had time to prevent her.

"Now then," cried Caroline, in delight; "come Henry and help me to mount."

Hargrave descended as slowly as possible, and, as sulkily as he well could, gave his assistance to both, then slowly mounting his own steed, he took the bridle and rode on in silence.

In vain Caroline tried to get something beyond a monosyllable--she was quite unsuccessful; Hargrave fenced himself in one of his most bearish humours, and, when they entered the town again, he called to Mr. Stokes, and begged him to take the rein he held, and take every charge of Miss Villars; and when he found him nothing loath to shew his horsemanship, he politely gave up his place by his fair cousin's side, and, turning his horse's head, urged him back again. At first the horse was obstinate, and would not part company so easily; but Hargrave tried the power of his spurs, with more success than he had done that of his whip, and they started off at a furious gallop, and were soon out of sight.

She whispered to revenge--forgive, forgive.

POLLOK.

While the riding party was so occupied, Lucy walked alone to the Circus, and as, on her way thither, she passed some well-known shop or house, she could not help wondering to herself how very long it seemed since that foggy morning after her first meeting with Beauclerc, when, with glowing fancy and light steps, she had hastened to her friend Millie Foster, in order that she might have the pleasure of describing him. Since that meeting, their acquaintance had tacitly dropped, Miss Foster had never sought her, and Lucy was not sorry to avoid a friend, who seemed likely to prove too officious an adviser. She being rather inclined to agree with the Scotch damsel who says:--

I'll gie ye my bonny black hen If ye will advise me to marry The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.

Often now, as she walked, she paused, for she was weary, and very, very changed; and pale was the cheek that had then been so bright and glowing. Often her spirits failed, and she seemed inclined to turn back, and urge to herself her aching limbs as an excuse for her failing purpose. Her airy form dragged rather than tripped over the ground; yet still she went on.

As she was thus proceeding, with her eyes bent upon the ground, fearing, that, if she raised them, some unwelcome acquaintance might recognise her as the lady with the married lover, some one knocked slightly against her--they both stopped to apologise.

It was Beauclerc.

Free books android app tbrJar TBR JAR Read Free books online gutenberg

Login to post a comment!