Chapter 23 - Page 2

she had only thought of it because Mr. Binnie
came, I could have forgiven her more easily; but she has been making
coarse plans all the time, and treating me with contempt. Octavia," she
added, turning upon her, with flushing cheeks and sparkling eyes, "I
think that, for the first time in my life, I am in a passion,--a real
passion. I think I shall never be afraid of her any more." Her delicate
nostrils were dilated, she held her head up, her breath came fast. There
was a hint of exultation in her tone. "Yes," she said, "I am in a
passion. And I am not afraid of her at all. I will go home and tell her
what I think."

And it is quite probable that she would have done so, but for a trifling
incident which occurred before she reached her ladyship.

She walked very fast, after she left the house. She wanted to reach
Oldclough before one whit of her anger cooled down; though, somehow, she
felt quite sure, that, even when her anger died out, her courage would
not take flight with it. Mr. Dugald Binnie had not proved to be a very
fascinating person. He was an acrid, dictatorial old man: he contradicted
Lady Theobald flatly every five minutes, and bullied his man-servant. But
it was not against him that Lucia's indignation was aroused. She felt
that Lady Theobald was quite capable of suggesting to him that Francis
Barold would be a good match for her; and, if she had done so, it was
scarcely his fault if he had accepted the idea. She understood now why
she had been allowed to visit Octavia, and why divers other things had
happened. She had been sent to walk with Francis Barold; he had been
almost reproached when he had not called; perhaps her ladyship had been
good enough to suggest to him that it was his duty to further her plans.
She was as capable of that as of any thing else which would assist her to
gain her point. The girl's cheeks grew hotter and hotter, her eyes
brighter, at every step, because every step brought some new thought: her
hands trembled, and her heart beat.

"I shall never be afraid of her again," she said, as she turned the
corner into the road. "Never! never!"

And at that very moment a gentleman stepped out of the wood at her right,
and stopped before her.

She started back, with a cry.

"Mr. Burmistone!" she said: "Mr. Burmistone!"

She wondered if he had heard her last words: she fancied he had. He took
hold of her shaking little hand, and looked down at her excited face.

"I am glad I waited for you," he said, in the quietest possible tone.
"Something is the matter."

She knew there would be no use in trying to conceal the truth, and she
was not in the mood