United States or Poland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Day by day, week by week, month by month, and year by year, a rose had been unfolding itself at Collingswood, and with every opening petal had grown more and more precious to the blind man, until more than one crone foretold the end; and Grace Atherton, grown fonder of gossip than she was wont to be, listened to the tale, and watched, and wondered, and wept, and still caressed and loved the bright, beautiful girl, whom she dreaded as a powerful rival.
She said to herself that she would make it fashionable yet, if she chose, and as a first move in this direction she easily secured Mr. Atherton: he had no engagements, so few people had got back to town. She called upon Mrs.
"Of course she is not like herself!" said Miss Atherton. "She is exactly like her Aunt Barbara. Gertrude, my dear, you're not thinking of growing good, are you?" "Don't you think it might be of some advantage to the world if I were to improve a little?" asked Gertrude, laughing, but not pleasantly. "Well, I don't know. I am afraid it would put us all out sadly.
Atherton returned, delighted to meet her young cousin, in whom she felt a pardonable pride. "You must have been very lonely," she said, beginning to apologize for her absence. "Never was less so in my life," he replied. "Why, I've been splendidly entertained by a little black princess, who called herself your waiting maid, and discoursed most eloquently of METAPHYSICS and all that."
I must tell John Atherton about it. I'll keep the note, and show it to him." Often she paused to take the note from its retreat behind the clock, read it, and replace it. She looked from the window whenever she passed it, but not a glimpse of Gyp did she obtain.
'I hope I love the truth, and I think so doth Stopchase, after his kind; and yet were we of those that fled from Atherton moor. 'Thou didst not flee until thou couldst no more, my son. It asketh greater courage of some men to flee when the hour of flight hath come, for they would rather fight on to the death than allow, if but to their own souls, that they are foiled.
"Oh, making her feel that, after all, it is Atherton family rather than Gilman health that counts little remarks that when our baby is born, they hope it will resemble Quincy rather than Eugenia, and all that sort of thing, only worse and more cutting, until the thing has begun to prey on her mind." "I see," remarked Kennedy thoughtfully.
Atherton presented him to the charming Miss Restall; and Mrs. Cosway shuddered inwardly at the bare idea of a second marriage. Was Miss Restall the sort of woman to restore his confidence? She was small and slim and dark a graceful, well-bred, brightly intelligent person, with a voice exquisitely sweet and winning in tone.
So she committed that greatest of all errors, she engaged herself to marry Lord Atherton without telling him of her acquaintance with the young artist. Then she was so happy for a time that she forgot the whole matter; she was so happy that she ceased to remember there had ever been anything deserving blame in her life.
No notice was taken of her absence at first; they thought she had gone out and had been detained; but when midnight arrived, and there was still no news of her, Lord Atherton became alarmed. He went into her dressing-room, and there his eyes fell upon the letter. He opened and read it, bewildered by its contents. At first he did not understand it, then he began to see what it meant.
Word Of The Day