"Chelda, my dear," she said, softly, "you have something to say to this young man."
The feverish flush on the young lady's face deepened. Her head was not held as high as formerly and her manner had become nervous and startled.
"Captain Veevers," she said, moving toward him in an automaton-like fashion, but keeping her eyes fixed on her aunt, "I wounded your feelings in an interview you sought last week. I deeply regret it."
"She wishes to curry favour with her aunt," the young man sneeringly reflected. Aloud he said, "The matter had better be left buried."
"If you knew how I have suffered!" said Chelda, with agitation. "How I have suffered!"
A quick gleam sprang to his eyes. Had she repented? If so, though he was very angry, he might possibly forgive.
She retreated from him, and drawing up her slender figure against the dark panelling of the wall, hastily ejaculated a few sentences divided between him and her mildly observing aunt.
"I did not think when I began--I only sought my own gratification. Then--then it was too late. The agonies of fear, of apprehension, of mortification, that I have undergone, I cannot describe. If you knew, you would not scorn but pity me. I have had no sleep--my food is like ashes. You think you suffer," and she bestowed a glance of mingled fear and aversion on the man, "you know nothing of it,--a little wounded vanity, that is all. I cannot describe what I endure--I cannot describe it," and she buried her face in her hands. "Such days of misery--such nights of pain!"
Her agitation was intense--almost too intense for the occasion. Captain Veevers looked at Miss Gastonguay, around whose lips a curious tremor was stealing. There was something tragic and overwrought in her niece's despair,--almost as if she were speaking of one thing and thinking of another.
Miss Gastonguay waved him to depart. With a last glance at Chelda, he obeyed her. That woman's sentiment was dead and buried. She only felt remorse. She had flirted with the clergyman; she had been playing with him. Both had found her out. His heart felt lighter. She was too much like a woman with a past. Possibly he had been favoured in being delivered from her.
"Chelda," said Miss Gastonguay, softly, "have you anything to tell me?"