He broke off abruptly, somewhat startled at the bitter scorn of the flashing eyes that, like two quivering stars, were blazing upon him. Her voice, clear as a bell ringing in frosty air, cut through the silence like a sweep of a sword-blade.
"How dare you!" she said, with a wrathful thrill in her low, intense tones. "How dare you come here to insult me!"
Insult her! He,--the Reverend Charles Dyceworthy,--considered guilty of insult in offering honorable marriage to a mere farmer's daughter! He could not believe his own ears,--and in his astonishment he looked up at her. Looking, he recoiled and shrank into himself, like a convicted knave before some queenly accuser. The whole form of the girl seemed to dilate with indignation. From her proud mouth, arched like a bow, sprang barbed arrows of scorn that flew straightly and struck home.
"Always I have guessed what you wanted," she went on in that deep, vibrating tone which had such a rich quiver of anger within it; "but I never thought you would--" She paused, and a little disdainful laugh broke from her lips. "You would make me your wife--me? You think me likely to accept such an offer?" And she drew herself up with a superb gesture, and regarded him fixedly.
"Oh, pride, pride!" murmured the unabashed Dyceworthy, recovering from the momentary abasement into which he had been thrown by her look and manner. "How it overcometh our natures and mastereth our spirits! My dear, my dearest Fröken,--I fear you do not understand me! Yet it is natural that you should not; you were not prepared for the offer of my--my affections,"--and he beamed all over with benevolence,--"and I can appreciate a maidenly and becoming coyness, even though it assume the form of a repellant and unreasonable anger. But take courage, my--my dear girl!--our Lord forbid that I should wantonly play with the delicate emotions of your heart! Poor little heart! does it flutter?" and Mr. Dyceworthy leered sweetly. "I will give it time to recover itself! Yes, yes! a little time! and then you will put that pretty hand in mine"--here he drew nearer to her, "and with one kiss we will seal the compact!"
And he attempted to steal his arm round her waist, but the girl sprang back indignantly, and pulling down a thick branch of the clambering prickly roses from the porch, held it in front of her by way of protection. Mr. Dyceworthy laughed indulgently.