Daphne Deane by Grace Livingston; Hill

Author:Grace Livingston; Hill [Hill, Grace Livingston;]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2016-01-25T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Keith Morrell seated at the elegantly appointed table across from Anne Casper could not understand the changed atmosphere, the unusual cordiality on the part of Anne's father, the genial friendly attitude. What did it mean?

And what was the matter with him? Why, if this had happened two weeks before when he had gone away from this girl for what he thought was the last time, prepared to eat his heart out for love of her, to consider his life ruined, his rosy future a blank, how happy he would have been if he could have known that in a short time he would be back in her good graces, dining with her and her father as if nothing had ever come between their friendship! And now he didn't seem to feel so happy. Somehow his heart was anxious, uneasy. Did he really love this girl after all?

Oh, she was lovely, there was no doubt about that, brilliant, gifted, desirable, and yet somehow he couldn't thrill at the sight of her as he used to do before they had their difference. Yet she was lovelier in her present garb than ever he had seen her before, and there seemed to be a gentleness upon her that he had never associated with her before, of which he had never thought her capable.

What had happened to him during the interval? What power had awakened him to look beneath the surface, to doubt her, to wonder if, after all, even though she gave in to his convictions and went his way, she was desirable--for him? He hated himself for these thoughts. It did not seem loyal, stable, honorable, to accept them in his heart. He didn't like to think of himself as changeable.

He was looking across at Anne as she talked, her eyes wide and beautiful, the diamond in the hollow of her throat catching the light and flinging it over him in a dazzling point, bringing out the beauty of the girl who wore it. Yet it all seemed unreal. It was a picture that was being held out to him, and he was waiting there to see what it all meant.

He would have been surprised if he could have known that Anne herself had much the same feeling, as if she were seeing him actually for the first time. There was a gravity about him, a dignity that he had never shown to her before. He had been a charming courteous gentleman, a little bit too fastidiously formal, perhaps, in his manners, but now he seemed to have taken on an awesome maturity in these few days since they had been separated. He seemed like a man upon whom responsibility sat, and to whom life meant more than just a continuous round of amusement. She wasn't sure whether she liked it or not. It frightened her just a little. That set of his jaw, that firmness about his lips, that look of a man whose mind could no more be made up for him.

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