'I can bear anything,' said Tancred, in a trembling voice, 'but to see
you unhappy.' And he drew his chair nearer to hers.
Her face was hid, her beautiful face in her beautiful hand. There was
silence and then a sigh.
'Dear lady,' said Lord Montacute.
'What is it?' murmured Lady Bertie and Bellair.
'Why do you sigh?'
'Because I am miserable.'
'No, no, no, don't use such words,' said the distracted Tancred. 'You
must not be miserable; you shall not be.'
'Can I help it? Are we not about to part?'
'We need not part,' he said, in a low voice.
'Then you will remain?' she said, looking up, and her dark brown eyes
were fixed with all their fascination on the tortured Tancred.
'Till we all go,' he said, in a soothing voice.
'That can never be,' said Lady Bertie; 'Augustus will never hear of it;
he never could be absent more than six weeks from London, he misses his
clubs so. If Jerusalem were only a place one could get at, something
might be done; if there were a railroad to it for example.'
'A railroad!' exclaimed Tancred, with a look of horror. 'A railroad to
Jerusalem!'
'No, I suppose there never can be one,' continued Lady Bertie, in a
musing tone. 'There is no traffic. And I am the victim,' she added, in
a thrilling voice; I am left here among people who do not comprehend me,
and among circumstances with which I can have no sympathy.
Pages:
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245