"
"I do not think so," said Marguerite, with a flushed cheek, and a look
away from the visitor, that was almost defiant. "I think it is as much
exalted by us peasants."
"Fie, fie, Miss Marguerite," said Obenreizer. "You speak in proud
England."
"I speak in proud earnest," she answered, quietly resuming her work, "and
I am not English, but a Swiss peasant's daughter."
There was a dismissal of the subject in her words, which Vendale could
not contend against. He only said in an earnest manner, "I most heartily
agree with you, Miss Obenreizer, and I have already said so, as Mr.
Obenreizer will bear witness," which he by no means did, "in this house."
Now, Vendale's eyes were quick eyes, and sharply watching Madame Dor by
times, noted something in the broad back view of that lady. There was
considerable pantomimic expression in her glove-cleaning. It had been
very softly done when he spoke with Marguerite, or it had altogether
stopped, like the action of a listener. When Obenreizer's peasant-speech
came to an end, she rubbed most vigorously, as if applauding it. And
once or twice, as the glove (which she always held before her a little
above her face) turned in the air, or as this finger went down, or that
went up, he even fancied that it made some telegraphic communication to
Obenreizer: whose back was certainly never turned upon it, though he did
not seem at all to heed it.
Vendale observed too, that in Marguerite's dismissal of the subject twice
forced upon him to his misrepresentation, there was an indignant
treatment of her guardian which she tried to cheek: as though she would
have flamed out against him, but for the influence of fear.
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