Read "The House on the Marsh" by Florence Warden online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
During the whole of the drive back to Geldham it was old Mr. Reade who talked to me, and not Laurence, who drove along, silent and grave, pulling my cloak affectionately up to my throat every now and then, and watching me as I talked to his father, but scarcely speaking himself at all. When we got to the gate of the Alders, he jumped out, carefully lifted me down, and, telling his father to drive on home, as he should walk the rest of the way, he came inside the gate with me.
"Violet," he said very gravely, "I am afraid I have been foolish in agreeing to my father's wishes, and I am more anxious about you than I can tell. The Alders is no fit place for you. I can see quite well now what I could not when I was blinded by my passion last night, that you are so good and innocent that evil seems to have no power over you; but yet -- And -- and it is just that which makes you so sweet; and I don't want to spoil it, open your eyes, and all that. " He was playing nervously with my hand, holding it against his breast, and looking into my eyes so miserably, poor fellow! "Look here, Violet! " said he suddenly, as if struck by a happy thought. "If any man, while I am away, tells you you are nice, and tries to make you think he is very fond of you -- no matter who it is -- Mr. Rayner or -- or my father, or any man -- don't take any notice, and don't believe them."