" Fanny had
heard these various views of Miss Orr's conduct. She was still
striving with indifferent success to rise above her jealousy, and to
this end she never failed to champion Lydia's cause against all
comers. Curiously enough, this course had finally brought her
tranquillity of a sort and an utter unprotesting acquiescence.
Mrs. Whittle had been overheard saying to Mrs. Fulsom that she
guessed, after all, Fanny Dodge didn't care so much about the
minister.
Fanny, deep once more in the absorbing consideration of the question
which had once been too poignant to consider calmly, and the answer
to which she was never to know, permitted the paper to slide off her
knee to the floor: Why had Wesley Elliot so suddenly deserted her?
Surely, he could not have fallen in love with another woman; she was
sure he had been in love with her. However, to kiss and forget might
be one of the inscrutable ways of men. She was really afraid it was.
But Wesley Elliot had never kissed her; had never even held her hand
for more than a minute at a time. But those minutes loomed large in
retrospect.
The clock struck five and Fanny, roused from her reverie by the
sudden sound, glanced out of the window. At the gate she saw Elliot.
He stood there, gazing at the house as if uncertain whether to enter
or not. Fanny put up a tremulous hand to her hair, which was pinned
fast in its accustomed crisp coils; then she glanced down at her blue
gown.... Yes; he was coming in! The bell hanging over the passage
door jangled shrilly.
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