"And there?"
"The party on the upper piazza."
"With Mr. Brudenell in the midst?"
"Yes."
"Now, then, observe! You see him, but it is across the glare of the
fireworks! There is fire between you and him, girl--a gulf of fire! See
that you do not dream either he or you can pass it! For either to do so
would be to sink one, and that is yourself, in burning fire--in
consuming shame! Oh, Nora, beware!"
He had spoken thus! he, the poor unlettered man who had scarcely ever
opened his mouth before without a grievous assault upon good English! he
had breathed these words of eloquent warning, as if by direct
inspiration, as though his lips, like those of the prophet of old, had
been touched by the living coal from Heaven. His solemn words awed
Hannah, who understood them by sympathy, and frightened Nora, who did
not understand them at all. The last rays of the finale were dying out,
and with their expiring light the party on the upper piazza were seen to
bow to the rustic assembly on the lawn, and then to withdraw into the
house.
And thus ended the fête day of the young heir of Brudenell Hall.
The guests began rapidly to disperse.
Reuben Gray escorted the sisters home, talking with Hannah all the way,
not upon the splendors of the festival--a topic he seemed willing to
have forgotten, but upon crops, stock, wages, and the price of tea and
sugar. This did not prevent Nora from dreaming on the interdicted
subject; on the contrary, it left her all the more opportunity to do so,
until they all three reached the door of the hill hut, where Reuben Gray
bade them good-night.