For this, in part, I have
laboured, and still would labour. You do not, you cannot know how I have
loved you all my life.'
Poor Rowland almost whispered these few words, and as he did so, wished
he could recall them, but now the deed was done, and she knew the secret
of his childhood, boyhood, and manhood. He said no more, but stood
looking down upon her with his heart beating as it had never beaten
before.
Higher and higher rose the colour on her cheek. What were the feelings
that deepened it so? Alas! poor Rowland! Pride, only pride. For a moment
she stood as if hesitating what to say, then, suddenly drawing herself
up to her full height, she looked haughtily at him, and said words that
he never forgot to his dying day.
'Mr Rowland Prothero, have you quite forgotten who I am, and who you
are?'
With these words she made a stately bow, and turned towards the house.
Proudly and hastily she walked up the avenue; once she had turned round,
and seeing Rowland standing exactly where she had left him, hurried on
until she found herself in her own room, indulging in a very decided
flood of indignant tears.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE BROTHERS.
During this short conversation between Rowland and Miss Gwynne, Gladys
was still playing with the children at no great distance from them.
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