"
"Your grandmother's guest? Do you mean that he is staying here?"
"Certainly he is. Why shouldn't he be?"
The young man rose, and stood looking at her a moment; then he began to
pace up and down, his gaze fixed on the floor. Berenice felt herself
being swept away by tumultuous feelings which she could neither compel
nor understand. Her mind was in confusion, out of which rose most
definitely the desire that Stanford would go and leave her in peace.
"There is no reason why I should question the right of Mrs. Morison to
choose her own guests," said Stanford at length, pausing, and speaking
with an evident effort to be entirely calm; "and as I know nothing of
this Mr. Wynne, I shouldn't in any case have a right to say anything
about him. You can't wonder, though, that I'm jealous of him for having
had the luck to save your life, or that when I come here and find you
so suddenly different and this man staying in the house and a hero in
your eyes"--
"I wish that you wouldn't keep calling Mr. Wynne 'this,'" she
interrupted hastily. "It sounds dreadfully superior. Come," she added,
softening her tone, and pleased at having prevented him from going on,
"there is no need that we should quarrel about him.
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