An expression of disgust passed swiftly over Edna's pale face; she dropped her companion's hand, and asked coldly: "Does your mother approve of your walks with Mr. Murray?"
"For heaven's sake, don't look so solemn! I--she--really I don't know! I never told her a word about it. Once I mentioned having met him, and showed her some flowers he gave me; and she took very little notice of the matter. Several times since he has sent me bouquets, and though I kept them out of uncle's sight, she saw them in my room, and must have suspected where they came from. Of course he can not come to the parsonage to see me when he does not speak to my uncle or to mamma; but I do not see any harm in his walking and talking with me, when I happen to meet him. Oh! how lovely those lilies are, leaning over the edge of the aquarium! Mr. Murray said that some day he would show me all the beautiful things at Le Bocage; but he has forgotten his promise, I am afraid and I--"
"Ah! Miss Gertrude, how could you doubt me? I am here to fulfill my promise."
He pushed aside the boughs of a guava which stood between them, and, coming forward, took Gertrude's hand, drew it under his arm, and looked down eagerly, admiringly, into her blushing face.
"Oh, Mr. Murray! I had no idea you were anywhere near me. I am sure I could--"
"Did you imagine you could escape my eyes, which are always seeking you? Permit me to be your cicerone over Le Bocage, instead of Miss Edna here, who looks as if she had been scolding you. Perhaps she will be so good as to wait for us, and I will bring you back in a half-hour at least."
"Edna, will you wait here for me?" asked Gertrude.
"Why can not Mr. Murray bring you to the house? There is nothing more to see here."
"Allow us to judge for ourselves, if you please. There is a late Paris paper, which will amuse you till we return."
St. Elmo threw a newspaper at her feet, and led Gertrude away through one of the glass doors into the park.
Edna sat down on the edge of the aquarium, and the hungry little fish crowded close to her, looking up wistfully for the crumbs she was wont to scatter there daily; but now their mute appeal was unheeded.
Her colorless face and clasped hands grew cold as the marble basin on which they rested, and the great, hopeless agony that seized her heart came to her large eyes and looked out drearily.