"
"Do you sacrifice me like that? Ah, it's too much!
"I wish you'd wait a little," said the girl in a voice just distinct
enough to betray a quaver.
"Of course I'll wait if you'll give me hope. But you take my life
away."
"I'll not give you up-oh no!" Pansy went on.
"He'll try and make you marry some one else."
"I'll never do that."
"What then are we to wait for?"
She hesitated again. "I'll speak to Mrs. Osmond and she'll help us."
It was in this manner that she for the most part designated her
stepmother.
"She won't help us much. She's afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"Of your father, I suppose."
Pansy shook her little head. "She's not afraid of any one. We must
have patience."
"Ah, that's an awful word," Rosier groaned; he was deeply
disconcerted. Oblivious of the customs of good society, he dropped his
head into his hands and, supporting it with a melancholy grace, sat
staring at the carpet. Presently he became aware of a good deal of
movement about him and, as he looked up, saw Pansy making a curtsey-it
was still her little curtsey of the convent-to the English lord whom
Mrs. Osmond had introduced.
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