The Parson O' Dumford Part 15

"Oh, Daisy, have you so mean an opinion of me? Do you take me for a contemptible liar?"

"Oh no, no, no," sobbed the girl; "but they say--I always thought--I believed that you were engaged to Miss Eve."

"A poor puny thing," said Richard, in a contemptuous tone; "and besides, she's my cousin."

"But she thinks you love her," said Daisy.

"Poor thing!" laughed Richard.

"And I believe you love her."

"Indeed I don't, nor anybody else but you, you beautiful little rosebud.

Oh, Daisy, Daisy, how can you be so cruel!"

"I'm not, I'm not cruel," sobbed poor Daisy; "but I want to do what's right."

"Of course," whispered Richard. "But come along, let's go in the counting-house--to my room--it's safer there."

"I won't, I won't," cried Daisy, indignantly. "At such a time of night, too! You oughtn't to ask me."

"I only asked you for your own sake," said Richard, "because people might talk if they saw you with me here."

"Oh yes," sobbed Daisy; "and they would. I must go."

"Stop a moment," said Richard, catching her wrist. "Perhaps, too, it was a little for my own sake, because the men are so furious against me."

"Oh yes, I heard," cried Daisy, with her voice shaking; "but they did not hurt you to-day?"

"Not hurt me!" said Richard. "Why, they nearly killed me."

"No, no," sobbed Daisy.

"But they did; and they would if I hadn't been rescued."

Daisy suppressed a hysterical cry, and Richard pa.s.sed his arm round her little waist, and drew her to him.

"Then you do love me a little, Daisy?" he whispered.

"No, no, I don't think I do," sobbed the girl, without, however, trying to get away. "I believe you were going to meet Miss Eve this morning, and were disappointed because I was there."

"Indeed I was not," said Richard. "But I'm sure you were expecting to see that great hulking hound, Tom Podmore."

"That I was not," cried Daisy, impetuously; "and I won't have you speak like that of poor Tom, for I've behaved very badly to him, and he's a good--good, worthy fellow."

"'Poor Tom!'" said Richard, with a sigh. "Ah, Daisy, Daisy."

"Don't, Mr Richard, please," sobbed Daisy, who was crying bitterly.

"'Poor Tom--Mr Richard,'" said the young man, as if speaking to himself.

"Don't, don't, Mr Richard, please."

"'Mr Richard.'"

"Well, d.i.c.k, then. But there, I must go now."

"Not just now, darling Daisy," whispered Richard, pa.s.sionately. "Come with me--here we are close by the door."

"No, no, indeed I will not," cried Daisy, firmly.

"Not when I tell you it isn't safe for me to be in the streets at night, for fear some ruffian should knock out my brains?"

"Oh, d.i.c.k, dear d.i.c.k, don't say so."

"But I'm obliged to," he said, trying to draw her along, but she still resisted.

"I wouldn't have you hurt for the world," she sobbed; "but, Richard-- d.i.c.k, do you really, really love me as much as you have said?"

"Ten thousand times more, my darling, or I shouldn't have been running horrible risks to-night to keep my appointment with you."

"And you--you want to make me your wife, Richard--to share everything with you?"

"You know I do, darling," he cried, in a low, hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"Then, d.i.c.k, dear, it wouldn't be proper respect to your future wife to take me there to your works at this time of night," said the girl, simply, as she clung to him.

"Not when the streets are unsafe?" he cried.

"Let's part now, directly," said Daisy. "I would sooner die than any one should hurt you, Richard; but you'd never respect your wife if she had no respect for herself. Good night, Richard."

"There, I was right," he cried, petulantly, as he s.n.a.t.c.hed himself away.

"You do still care for Tom."

"No, no, d.i.c.k, dear d.i.c.k. I don't a bit," sobbed the girl. "Don't, pray don't, speak to me like that."

"Then will you come with me--only because it isn't safe here?" whispered Richard.

"No, no," sobbed the girl, firmly, "I can't do that, and if you loved me as you said, you wouldn't ask me."

"Bah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Richard, angrily. "Go to your dirty, grimy lout of a lover then;" and as the girl clung to him he thrust her rudely away.

Sim Slee, more rat-like than ever, had been rubbing his hands together with delight, as he looked down at the dimly-seen figures, and overheard every word.

"There'll be a faight, and d.i.c.ky Glaire will be bunched about strangely," muttered Sim, as Daisy gave a faint scream, for a figure strode out of the darkness.

"She wouldn't have far to go," said the figure, hoa.r.s.ely.

"Tom!" cried Daisy, shrinking to the wall.