Doubtless her sharp instinct served her by telling her that her contempt would hurt him shrewdly now.

The foolishness of a man having much to say to a woman, and not knowing how or where the beginning of it might be, was perceptible about him.

A shout from her father at the open garden-gate, hurried on Rhoda to meet him.

Old Anthony was at Mr.Fleming's elbow.
"You know it?
You have her letter, father ?" said Rhoda, gaily, beneath the shadow of his forehead.
"And a Queen of the Egyptians is what you might have been," said Anthony, with a speculating eye upon Rhoda's dark bright face.
Rhoda put out her hand to him, but kept her gaze on her father.
William Fleeting relaxed the knot of his brows and lifted the letter.
"Listen all! This is from a daughter to her father." And he read, oddly accentuating the first syllables of the sentences:-- Dear Father,-- "My husband will bring me to see you when I return to dear England.
I ought to have concealed nothing, I know.

Try to forgive me.