"Her own madness," says Penelope; "I can call it nothing else. She was
bent on speaking to Mr. Franklin, this morning, come what might of it. I
did my best to stop her; you saw that. If I could only have got her away
before she heard those dreadful words----"
"There! there!" I said, "don't lose your head. I can't call to mind that
anything happened to alarm Rosanna."
"Nothing to alarm her, father. But Mr. Franklin said he took no interest
whatever in her--and, oh, he said it in such a cruel voice!"
"He said it to stop the Sergeant's mouth," I answered.
"I told her that," says Penelope. "But you see, father (though Mr.
Franklin isn't to blame), he's been mortifying and disappointing her for
weeks and weeks past; and now this comes on the top of it all! She has
no right, of course, to expect him to take any interest in her. It's
quite monstrous that she should forget herself and her station in
that way. But she seems to have lost pride, and proper feeling, and
everything. She frightened me, father, when Mr. Franklin said those
words. They seemed to turn her into stone. A sudden quiet came over her,
and she has gone about her work, ever since, like a woman in a dream.
Pages:
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289