United States or French Guiana ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
She had caught Felicita's small cold hand between her own and looked up beseechingly into her face. Oh! if she would but now, at last, throw off the burden which had so long bowed her down, and tell her secret, she could let her know that this painful pilgrimage was utterly needless.
"That is the scruple in Felicita's mind," said Phebe in a sorrowful tone; "she feels that you ought to know everything before you consent to Alice marrying Felix, and she cannot bring herself to speak of it." "But how morbid that is!" he answered; "as if I did not know Felix, every thought of him, and every motion of his soul! His father was a careless, negligent man.
Felicita's stony quietude was gone, and in its place was such a passionate energy as he had never witnessed before in any woman. "It was money that tempted Roland to defraud you and dishonor himself," she said; "it drove poor Acton to commit suicide, and it hardened your heart against your friend's son. Felix shall be free from it.
There would be no public trial and conviction, and though suspicion might always rest upon his memory, he would not be remembered for long. Justice would be defrauded, yet on the whole I should rejoice for your sake to hear that he was dead." Felicita's lips almost echoed the words. Her heart did so, though it smote her as she recollected his passionate love for her. But Mr.
His life had been as a tale that is told, even to its last word, death. The busy, monotonous years ran through their course tranquilly, marked only by a change of residence from the narrow little house suited to Felicita's slender means to a larger, more commodious, and more fashionable dwelling-place in a West End square.
As the night wore on a feverish dread took possession of her that she should be unable to prevent Felicita's burial beside Roland Sefton's grave. Even Felix would decide that it ought to be so. As soon as the dawn came she rose and went out into the icy freshness of the morning air, blowing down from the snow-fields and the glaciers around her. The village was beginning to arouse itself.
Felicita's own delicate health had been failing for some months past. As swiftly as he could follow he had pursued them; but her impatient and feverish haste had prevented him from overtaking them in time. What might have been the result if he had reached her sooner he could not tell.
"Tell nobody else," she murmured; "keep the secret for his sake and mine." Before Phebe could reply she turned away, and, with a steady, unfaltering step, went back to her study and locked herself in. Felicita's study was so quiet a room, quite remote from the street, that it was almost a wonder the noise of the crowd had reached her.
"Partly," he answered; "my wife is a Riversdale, you know, Felicita's second or third cousin. There was some painful suspicion attaching to Roland Sefton." "Yes," answered Phebe sadly. "Was it not quite cleared up?" asked Canon Pascal. Phebe shook her head.
After the general greeting was over, we proceeded to the dining room where an elegant repast was served. The supper being finished, the music struck up again as the wine was being served. Just then I observed Rodrigo for the first time, and noticed that he was intently watching me. I called Felicita's attention to him and she seemed to be frightened.
Word Of The Day