In turning, Alfred
Stevens betrayed to her the playful smile upon his own lips--their
eyes met, and that single glance established a certain understanding
between them.
Her coming did not avail to stifle the subject of discussion. John
Cross was too resolute in the prosecution of his supposed duty, to
give up the cause he had once undertaken. He had all the inveteracy
of the stout old puritan. The usual introduction over and he resumed,
though he now addressed himself to the daughter rather than the
mother. She scarcely heard him to the end.
"The books were my father's, Mr. Cross; they are valuable to me
on that account. They are dear to me on their own. They are almost
my only companions, and though I believe you would find nothing in
them which might be held detrimental, yet I must confess, if there
were, I should be sorry to be made acquainted with the fact. I
have not yet discovered it myself, and should be loath to have it
shown by another."
"But you will let me see them, Margaret?"
"Yes, sir, whenever you please. I can have no objection to that,
but if by seeing them you only desire an opportunity to say what I
shall read and what not, I can only tell you that your labor will
be taken in vain.
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