Strathmore and not recognizing in the least that
they were assisting at the breaking down of the church; he gave a
little reflection to his own interview with the new bishop, unable
completely to satisfy himself how far Mr. Strathmore was sincere and
how far simply following out a policy; these and other matters floated
through his mind, but they were mere trifles on the surface. His real
thought was of Berenice, always of Berenice. The fluttered, troubled
look which he had seen when his gaze had compelled hers, a look which
seemed to him full of confession of things unutterable, full almost of
appeal as if she realized that she was betraying a feeling that she
feared to own even to herself, this look of a moment so fleeting
clocks could hardly have measured it, filled him with a wild,
unreasoning bliss. He did not again try to challenge her eyes. He sat
in a dream of happiness; a vague, intangible, ecstatic sense that all
was well, that the universe was in tune, and that all things were but
ministers of his joy.
When the ceremonial was concluded Mrs. Staggchase went home with
Berenice to lunch with Mrs.
Pages:
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522