At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 156: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AT A GIRL’S MERCY. 145 eyes that sent the blood surging back upon her heart, and set her face like marble, “I go now at your bidding, Miss Nan,” he said. “When I return, you will have an answer more to my liking. Good-morning.’’ He bowed, mockingly, and was gone, and she stood where he had left her, looking after him, in- dignation and a vague fear mingling in her thoughts. She had done her part of treating him well as she could up tonow. She had kept a tight rein upon her hatred of him because of his hold upon her father, but now she had lost all by her angry words. And yet she could have done no different should he come as he had then. He must have seen how she detested him. He was not so blind as not to know that she—the daughter of a loyal father, the sister of two brave brothers—could never have a kind answer to such words as his. Was her heart not sore enough that he must come in on her life in this fashion? Had she not enough sadness without feeling that his anger would seek to harm her or those dearer than herself?. If she had kept her tem- per—if she only could have kept her temper and given him a kinder answer, though never other than she did, she might have done her duty better, but how could she have done so? How could she endure his presuming without resenting it? And yet her heart was sore and troubled all the day through, because of the threat that he left with her. CHAPTER XV. NOT RECKONING THE END. “What is it, papa?’? Nan demanded, when they left her mother’s room, after spending almost an Eomicbooks