"
"He may have tea if he is tractable," responded Bee. "We are evidently
not appreciated, Mr. Wynne. Will you ring the bell over there, please."
He did as he was directed, and then followed her to the tea-table at a
little distance from the fire. He was full of a troubled joy, the
mingled delight of being with her and the consciousness that he had
firmly determined in his own mind that he had no right to show her his
feelings. He said to himself that he could bear anything else better
than that she should think of him as a fortune-hunter. Her wealth
loomed between them as a wall which it were dishonorable even to
attempt to scale. His brain was busy phrasing things which he longed to
say to her, words seemed to seethe in his head, yet he found himself
strangely tongue-tied and awkward. When most of all he desired to
appear at his ease, he was most completely uncomfortable and self-
conscious.
A servant came with the tea, and he was able to cover to some extent
his uneasiness by serving the ladies. When this was done, and he sat
nervously stirring his own cup, he found himself searching his mind in
vain for those things which it would be safe to say.
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