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I have read it too often, now, for my peace of mind. Yes, she is dead. There is no doubt. I have been dreaming to-night. Old Trevlyn's wine was too strong for me. Arabel Vere, indeed! Pshaw! Paul Linmere, are you an idiot?" Not daring to cast a look behind him, he hurried home, and up to his spacious parlor on the second floor.
Margie struck her forehead with her hand, as if she would wipe out the touch he had left there. Alexandrine came and put her arm around Margie's waist. "I almost envy you, Margie," she said, in that singularly purring voice of hers. "Ah, Linmere is magnificent! Such eyes, and hair, and such a voice! Well, Margie, you are a fortunate girl."
Paul Linmere, and I desired to judge for myself if it would fall heavily on the woman he was going to marry. For even violently as I had loved him I now hated him. "I saw Miss Harrison. I accosted her in the street, one day, as any common beggar would have done, telling her a pitiful story of my poverty. She smiled on me, spoke a few words of comfort, and laid a piece of gold in my hand.
It was easy to see that if he had been a bulldog instead of a greyhound, he would have torn Mr. Paul Linmere limb from limb. Linmere went back to his chair, and sat down with a sullen face; but he could not rest there. He rose, and going into an inner room, brought out an ebony box, which he opened, and from which he took a miniature in a golden case.
The beach was alive with the gorgeous grotesque figures of the bathers. The air was bracing, the surf splendid. Mr. Trevlyn's carriage drove down soon after Mrs. Belgrade had finished her morning's "dip;" and Margie and Mr. Linmere, accompanied by Alexandrine Lee, alighted. They were in bathing costume, and Miss Lee, espying Arch, fastened upon him without ceremony. "Oh, Mr.
"Remember the banks of the Seine!" said a singularly sweet voice, which sounded to Mr. Paul Linmere as if it came from leagues and leagues away. "When you sit by the side of the living love, remember the dead! Think of the dark rolling river, and of what its waters covered!" He started from the strange presence, and caught at a post for support.
But you shall be my brother my dear, kind brother, Louis! Oh, it is sweet to know that in this false world there is one heart loyal and true!" "Margaret, there is more than one true heart in the world, as you will acknowledge, when I have told you my little story. You know, now, why you discarded Archer Trevlyn. You thought him guilty of the murder of Paul Linmere!"
"Previous to this only a little while, I had been inadvertently a listener to an altercation between Archer Trevlyn and his wife, during which Mrs. Trevlyn, in a fit of rage, denounced her husband as the murderer of Paul Linmere. She produced proofs, which I confess struck me as strangely, satisfactory, and affirmed her belief in his guilt.
Trevlyn had long ago forsworn everything of the kind; but since Margie Harrison had come to reside with him he had given up his hermit habits, and been quite like other nice gouty old gentleman. The party went down on Thursday Mr. Paul Linmere followed on Saturday.
And Mr. Linmere carries always about his person enough valuables to tempt a desperate character." "I beg you not to suppose such a dreadful thing!" exclaimed Margie, shuddering; "he will come in the morning, and " "But Hays was positive that he saw him leave the six o'clock train. He described him accurately, even to the saying that he had a bouquet of white camelias in his hand.