"Priscilla," said I, in the hearing of them all, "do you know whither
you are going?"
"I do not know," she answered.
"Is it wise to go, and is it your choice to go?" I asked. "If not,
I am your friend, and Hollingsworth's friend. Tell me so, at once."
"Possibly," observed Westervelt, smiling, "Priscilla sees in me an
older friend than either Mr. Coverdale or Mr. Hollingsworth. I shall
willingly leave the matter at her option."
While thus speaking, he made a gesture of kindly invitation, and
Priscilla passed me, with the gliding movement of a sprite, and took
his offered arm. He offered the other to Zenobia; but she turned her
proud and beautiful face upon him with a look which--judging from
what I caught of it in profile--would undoubtedly have smitten the
man dead, had he possessed any heart, or had this glance attained to
it. It seemed to rebound, however, from his courteous visage, like
an arrow from polished steel. They all three descended the stairs;
and when I likewise reached the street door, the carriage was already
rolling away.
XXI. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE
Thus excluded from everybody's confidence, and attaining no further,
by my most earnest study, than to an uncertain sense of something
hidden from me, it would appear reasonable that I should have flung
off all these alien perplexities. Obviously, my best course was to
betake myself to new scenes. Here I was only an intruder. Elsewhere
there might be circumstances in which I could establish a personal
interest, and people who would respond, with a portion of their
sympathies, for so much as I should bestow of mine.
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