"
"Forbidden, indeed!" thought Zoe to herself. "I for one shall do as I
please about it."
"Zoe, how pretty you are! that dress is very becoming!" exclaimed Rosie,
suddenly changing the subject.
"Am I? But I can't compare with Miss Deane in either beauty or
conversational powers," returned Zoe, the concluding words spoken with
some bitterness.
"Can't you? just ask Ned about it," laughed Rosie. "I verily believe he
thinks you the sweetest thing he ever set eyes on. There, I hear him
coming, and must run away, for I know he always wants you all to himself
here; and besides, I have to dress."
She ran gayly away, passing her brother on the threshold.
Zoe was busying herself at a bureau drawer, apparently searching for
something, and did not look toward him or speak. In another moment she had
found what she wanted, closed the drawer, and passed into her boudoir.
Edward had been standing silently watching her, love and anger struggling
for the mastery in his breast. If she had only turned to him with a word,
or even a look of regret for the past, and desire for reconciliation, he
would have taken her to his heart again as fully and tenderly as ever.
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