Alec took it, but felt
it tremble in his with a backward motion as of reluctance, and he knew
that another thickness of the parting veil had fallen between her and
him.
"Will you stay and take tea with us?" asked the professor. "You never
come to see us now."
Alec stammered out an unintelligible excuse.
"Your friend Beauchamp will be here," continued Mr Fraser.
"I fear Mr Beauchamp is no friend of mine," said Alec.
"Why do you think that? He speaks very kindly of you--always."
Alec made no reply. Ugly things were vaguely showing themselves through
a fog.
Kate left the room.
"You had better stay," said the old man kindly.
"I was up all night with Mr Cupples," answered Alec, longing to be
alone that he might think things out, "and I am anxious about him. I
should be quite uneasy if I did stay--thank you, Mr Fraser."
"Ah! well; your excuse is a good one," answered the old man. And they
parted.
Alec went home with such a raging jealousy in his heart, that he almost
forgot Mr Cupples, and scarcely cared how he might find him. For this
was the first time he had heard of any acquaintance between the
professor and Beauchamp. And why should Kate hesitate to shake hands
with him? He recalled how her hand had trembled and fluttered on his
arm when he spoke of the red stain on the water; and how she had
declined to shake hands with him when he told her that he had come from
the dissecting-room.
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