As the orphan sat bending over her work listening to the conversation, she asked herself scornfully: "What hallucination has seized me? The man is a mocking devil, unworthy the respect or toleration of any Christian woman. What redeeming trait can even my partial eyes discover in his distorted, sinful nature? Not one. No, not one!"
She was rejoiced when he uttered a sarcasm or an opinion that shocked her, for she hoped that his irony would cauterize what she considered a cancerous spot in her heart.
"Edna, as you are not well, I advise you to put aside that embroidery, which must try your eyes very severely," said Mrs. Murray.
So she folded up the piece of cambric and was putting it in her basket, when Mr. Allston asked, with more effrontery than the orphan was prepared for: "Miss Earl, have I not seen you before to-day?"
"Yes, sir."
"May I ask where?"
"In a chestnut grove, where you shot Mr. Dent."
"Indeed! Did you witness that affair? It happened many years ago."
There was not a shadow of pain or sorrow in his countenance or tone, and, rising, Edna said, with unmistakable emphasis: "I saw all that occurred, and may God preserve me from ever witnessing another murder so revolting!"
In the silence that ensued she turned toward Mrs. Murray, bowed, and said as she quitted the parlor: "Mrs. Murray, as I am not very well, you will please excuse my retiring early."
"Just what you deserve for bringing the subject on tapis; I warned you not to allude to it." As St. Elmo muttered these words, he pushed Estelle from him, and nodded to Mr. Allston, who seemed as nearly nonplussed as his habitual impudence rendered possible.
Thoroughly dissatisfied with herself, and too restless to sleep, the orphan passed the weary hours of the night in endeavoring to complete a chapter on Buddhism, which she had commenced some days before; and the birds were chirping their reveille, and the sky blanched and reddened ere she lay down her pen and locked up her MS. Throwing open the blinds of the eastern window, she stood for some time looking out, gathering strength from the holy calm of the dewy morning, resolving to watch her own heart ceaselessly, to crush promptly the feeling she had found there, and to devote herself unreservedly to her studies. At that moment the sound of horse's hoofs on the stony walk attracted her attention, and she saw Mr. Murray riding from the stables. As he passed her window, he glanced up, their eyes met, and he lifted his hat and rode on. Were those the same sinister, sneering features she had looked at the evening before? His face was paler, sterner, and sadder than she had ever seen it, and, covering her own with her hands, she murmured: "God help me to resist that man's wicked magnetism! Oh, Grandpa! are you looking down on your poor little Pearl? Will you forgive me for allowing myself ever to have thought kindly and tenderly of this strange temptation which Satan has sent to draw my heart away from my God and my duty? Ah, Grandpa! I will crush it--I will conquer it! I will not yield!"