"Gilbert, I must speak with you!" said she in a tone of suppressed vehemence.
I looked at her pale cheek and glittering eye, but answered nothing.
"Only for a moment," pleaded she. "Just step aside into this other field," she glanced at the reapers, some of whom were directing looks of impertinent curiosity towards her—"I won't keep you a minute."
I accompanied her through the gap.
"Arthur, darling, run and gather those bluebells," said she, pointing to some that were gleaming, at some distance, under the hedge along which we walked. The child hesitated, as if unwilling to quit my side. "Go, love!" repeated she more urgently, and in a tone, which, though not unkind, demanded prompt obedience, and obtained it.
"Well, Mrs. Graham?" said I, calmly and coldly; for, though I saw she was miserable, and pitied her, I felt glad to have it in my power to torment her.
