‚Äú Mrs. ¬ÝCresswell,‚Äù he began hurriedly, ‚Äúthere‚Äôs a matter‚ÅÝ‚Äîa personal matter of which I have wanted to speak‚ÅÝ‚Äîa long time‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù The dinner-bell rang, and he stopped, vexed.
‚ÄúCome up to the house this afternoon,‚Äù she said; ‚ÄúColonel Cresswell will be away‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù Then she paused abruptly. A strange startling thought flashed through her brain. Alwyn noticed nothing. He thanked her cordially and hurried toward the dining-hall, meeting Colonel Cresswell on horseback just as he turned into the school gate.
Mary Cresswell walked slowly on, flushing and paling by turns. Could it be that this Negro had dared to misunderstand her‚ÅÝ‚Äîhad presumed? She reviewed her conduct. Perhaps she had been indiscreet in thus making a confidant of him in her trouble. She had thought of him as a boy‚ÅÝ‚Äîan old student, a sort of confidential servant; but what had he thought? She remembered Miss Smith‚Äôs warning of years before‚ÅÝ‚Äîand he had been North since and acquired Northern notions of freedom and equality. She bit her lip cruelly.
Yet, she mused, she was herself to blame. She had unwittingly made the intimacy and he was but a Negro, looking on every white woman as a goddess and ready to fawn at the slightest encouragement. There had been no one else here to confide in. She could not tell Miss Smith her troubles, although she knew Miss Smith must suspect. Harry Cresswell, apparently, had written nothing home of their quarrel. All the neighbors behaved as if her excuse of ill-health were sufficient to account for her return South to escape the rigors of a Northern winter. Alwyn, and Alwyn alone, really knew. Well, it was her blindness, and she must right it quietly and quickly with hard ruthless plainness. She blushed again at the shame of it; then she began to excuse.