"I am convinced," he said, "that you will come around to our way of
thinking. I proceed now to the second reason of my visit to you this
afternoon. Professor Cowper and his daughter are doing me the honor to
dine with me to-night at the Milan. I beg that you will join us."
Burton sat for some time without reply. For a moment the strong wave of
humanity which swept up from his heart and set his pulses leaping, set
the music beating in the air, terrified him. Surely this could mean but
one thing! He waited almost in agony for the thoughts which might fill
his brain.
"Miss Cowper," Mr. Bomford continued, "has been much upset since your
hasty departure from Leagate. She is conscious of some mistake--some
foolish speech."
Burton drew a little sigh of relief. After all, what he had feared was
not coming. He saw the flaw, he felt even now the revulsion of feeling
with which her words had inspired him. Yet the other things remained.
She was still wonderful. It was still she who was the presiding genius
of that sentimental garden.
"You are very kind," he murmured.
"We shall expect you," Mr. Bomford declared, "at a quarter past eight
this evening."
CHAPTER XXIII
CONDEMNED!
To Burton, who was in those days an epicure in sensations, there was
something almost ecstatic in the pleasure of that evening.
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