Not that she nursed her grief. She had been told to be brave, and she
tried. But her grief was her master. It came welling through her eyes
in a moment, of its own accord.
She was deeply mortified too. But, in her gentle nature, anger could
play but a secondary part. Her indignation was weak beside her grief,
and did little to bear her up.
Yet her sense of shame was vivid; and she tried hard not to let her
father see how deeply she loved the man who had gone from her to Miss
Somerset. Besides, he had ordered her to fight against a love that now
could only degrade her; he had ordered, and it was for her to obey.
As soon as Sir Charles was better, he wrote her a long, humble letter,
owning that, before he knew her, he had led a free life; but assuring
her that, ever since that happy time, his heart and his time had been
solely hers; as to his visit to Miss Somerset, it had been one of
business merely, and this he could prove, if she would receive him. The
admiral could be present at that interview, and Sir Charles hoped to
convince him he had been somewhat hasty and harsh in his decision.
Now the admiral had foreseen Sir Charles would write to her; so he had
ordered his man to bring all letters to him first.
He recognized Sir Charles's hand, and brought the latter in to Bella.
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