Moreover, he
was not aware what a good friend this woman had been to him, nor what a
good wife she had been to Marsh this seventeen years. His mind,
therefore, made a clear leap from Rhoda Somerset, the vixen of Hyde
Park and Mayfair, to this preacher, and he could not help smiling; than
which a worse frame for receiving unpalatable truths can hardly be
conceived. And so the elders were obdurate. But Compton and Ruperta had
no armor of old age, egotism, or prejudice to turn the darts of honest
eloquence. They listened, as to the voice of an angel; they gazed, as
on the face of an angel; and when those silvery accents ceased, they
turned toward each other and came toward each other, with the sweet
enthusiasm that became their years. "Oh, Cousin Ruperta!" quavered
Compton. '"Oh, Cousin Compton!" cried Ruperta, the tears trickling down
her lovely cheeks.
They could not say any more for ever so long.
Ruperta spoke first. She gave a final gulp, and said, "I will go and
speak to her, and thank her."
"Oh, Miss Ruperta, we shall be too late for tea," suggested the maid.
"Tea!" said Ruperta. "Our souls are before our tea! I must speak to
her, or else my heart will choke me and kill me. I will go--and so will
Compton."
"Oh, yes!" said Compton.
And they hurried after the preacher.
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