But, pardon me,"--he stopped
hesitatingly, with a slight flush, as he noticed the utterly inattentive
face and attitude of Hurlstone,--"I am boring you. I am forgetting
that this is only important to myself," he added, with a sigh. "I only
intended to ask your advice in regard to the disposition of certain
manuscripts and effects of hers, which are unconnected with our
acquaintance. I thought, perhaps, I might entrust them to your delicacy
and consideration. They are here, if you choose to look them over; and
here is also what I believe to be a daguerreotype of the lady herself,
but in which I fail to recognize her soul and genius."
He laid a bundle of letters and a morocco case on the table with a
carelessness that was intended to hide a slight shade of disappointment
in his face--and rose.
"I beg your pardon," said Hurlstone, in confused and remorseful apology;
"but I frankly confess that my thoughts WERE preoccupied. Pray forgive
me. If you will leave these papers with me, I promise to devote myself
to them another time."
"As you please," said the Senor, with a slight return of his old
affability. "But don't bore yourself now. Let us go on deck.
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