Winthrop on my return
that day from Linden Lane that I had met Mrs. Le Grande he could not have
been reasonably angry with me; but I had concealed from him the fact, and
had also promised her another interview, and now with vision grown
suddenly clear I could realize how he would receive my unwilling
confession, after a whole week's silence. With aching head and heart
I wondered at the cruelty of circumstance that forced the innocent to
suffer with the guilty.
With my intense nature, so susceptible either to pleasure or pain, those
lonely hours in my own room, that bitter day, left their trace on heart
and body for long weary weeks. When at last Mrs. Flaxman came to me, her
own face sad and troubled, I no longer felt the cold in my fireless room;
for the blood now was rushing feverishly in my veins, and my head
throbbing with intense pain. I listened to what she had to say in a
dazed, half-conscious way. I heard her say something about Mr. Winthrop's
displeasure, but I was too sick to care very much for anything, just
then. I startled her at last by saying:--"I do not understand what you
are saying. Please wait and tell me some other time."
"Sure, you have not been sitting all this time here in the cold. You
should have gone where it was warm, or rung for Esmerelda to kindle your
fire."
I rose and tried to walk across the room; but staggered and would have
fallen only that she supported me.
"Are you sick, Medoline?" She asked, in great alarm.
"My head aches and I am very hot," I said uncertainly.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295