'A little more apart--among these trees. It is an old man's hand, Miss
Haredale; an honest one, believe me.'
She put hers in it as he said these words, and suffered him to lead her
to a neighbouring seat.
'You alarm me, sir,' she said in a low voice. 'You are not the bearer of
any ill news, I hope?'
'Of none that you anticipate,' he answered, sitting down beside her.
'Edward is well--quite well. It is of him I wish to speak, certainly;
but I have no misfortune to communicate.'
She bowed her head again, and made as though she would have begged him
to proceed; but said nothing.
'I am sensible that I speak to you at a disadvantage, dear Miss
Haredale. Believe me that I am not so forgetful of the feelings of my
younger days as not to know that you are little disposed to view me
with favour. You have heard me described as cold-hearted, calculating,
selfish--'
'I have never, sir,'--she interposed with an altered manner and a firmer
voice; 'I have never heard you spoken of in harsh or disrespectful
terms. You do a great wrong to Edward's nature if you believe him
capable of any mean or base proceeding.'
'Pardon me, my sweet young lady, but your uncle--'
'Nor is it my uncle's nature either,' she replied, with a heightened
colour in her cheek.
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