"She wouldn't or couldn't tell, but looked very cross and told me

to ask you."

"Very odd! I've had none," began Coventry.

"But I had one several days ago. Will you please read it, and my reply?"

And as she spoke, Jean laid two letters before him.

"Certainly not. It would be dishonorable to read what Ned intended for

no eyes but your own. You are too scrupulous in one way, and not enough

so in another, Miss Muir." And Coventry offered both the letters with

an air of grave decision, which could not conceal the interest and

surprise he felt.

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"You are right. Mr. Edward's note should be kept sacred, for in it the

poor boy has laid bare his heart to me. But mine I beg you will read,

that you may see how well I try to keep my word to you. Oblige me in

this, Mr. Coventry; I have a right to ask it of you."

So urgently she spoke, so wistfully she looked, that he could not refuse

and, going to the window, read the letter. It was evidently an answer to

a passionate appeal from the young lover, and was written with

consummate skill. As he read, Gerald could not help thinking, If this

girl writes in this way to a man whom she does not love, with what a

world of power and passion would she write to one whom she did love.

And this thought kept returning to him as his eye went over line after

line of wise argument, gentle reproof, good counsel, and friendly

regard. Here and there a word, a phrase, betrayed what she had already

confessed, and Coventry forgot to return the letter, as he stood

wondering who was the man whom Jean loved.

The sound of Bella's voice recalled him, for she was saying, half

kindly, half petulantly, "Don't look so sad, Jean. Ned will outlive it,

I dare say. You remember you said once men never died of love, though

women might. In his one note to me, he spoke so beautifully of you, and

begged me to be kind to you for his sake, that I try to be with all my

heart, though if it was anyone but you, I really think I should hate

them for making my dear boy so unhappy."

"You are too kind, Bella, and I often think I'll go away to relieve you

of my presence; but unwise and dangerous as it is to stay, I haven't the

courage to go. I've been so happy here." And as she spoke, Jean's head

dropped lower over the dog as it nestled to her affectionately.

Before Bella could utter half the loving words that sprang to her lips,

Coventry came to them with all languor gone from face and mien, and

laying Jean's letter before her, he said, with an undertone of deep

feeling in his usually emotionless voice, "A right womanly and eloquent

letter, but I fear it will only increase the fire it was meant to

quench. I pity my brother more than ever now."




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