So
persistently did he hunt her, that at last the wretched girl was
driven to hide herself away in odd corners of the house and woods, in
order to keep out of his way. Then he took to writing her letters, and
sending handsome presents, all of which she returned.
Poor Angela! It was hard both to lose her lover, and to suffer daily
from the persecutions of her hateful cousin, which were now pushed
forward so openly and with such pertinacity as to fill her with vague
alarm. What made her position worse was, that she had no one in whom
to confide, for Mr. Fraser had not yet returned. Pigott indeed knew
more or less what was going on, but she could do nothing, except
bewail Arthur's absence, and tell her "not to mind." There remained
her father, but with him she had never been on sufficiently intimate
terms for confidence. Indeed, as time went on, the suspicion gathered
strength in her mind that he was privy to George's advances, and that
those advances had something to do with the harsh terms imposed upon
Arthur and herself. But at last matters grew so bad that, having no
other refuge, she determined to appeal to him for protection.
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