United States or South Korea ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
They chatted upon indifferent subjects for a little while, and then Mr. Candish went to keep an appointment at the bedside of a sick parishioner; so that Helen and Edith were left alone. They sat together a little longer, and then Helen asked casually, "By the way, Edith, how long has Arthur been painting Ninitta?" "Painting Ninitta?" echoed Edith.
Her husband was always kind, but since his marriage delicacy of sentiment had made him shrink from having his wife pose even for himself, while naturally no thought of her doing so for another would have been entertained for a moment. Ninitta had been so long in the life, to pose had been so large a part of her very existence, that she hardly knew how to do without the old- time flavor. Mrs.
"No," Ninitta returned simply; "how could I be when I was betrothed to you?" "But that was broken off " The sentence stuck in his throat; and he wondered that he could have begun it. He wondered, too, how he could even have doubted the faith of the woman before him; and most of all he wondered if he had ever really loved her.
She wouldn't mind his ugly mug in the least, and his idiocies of temperament would be rather pleasing to her. Heaven knows it was an ill day for her when she fell into my clutches. I can't say that it seems to have been any great advantage to any woman to be fond of me. Helen was awfully cut up when I went back on the Pagans, and as for Ninitta, I've played the very dickens with her.
To the dream of meeting Herman with the proofs that he had been deceived, Ninitta had clung unyieldingly through the dreary years since the death of Hoffmeir, who had been kind to her for the sake of his shattered friendship with Herman, and for the sake, too, of his own hopeless love for herself.
"If you do love me," she said, a new look coming into her eyes, "you will promise me never to see her again." He started back as if from a blow. His frail dream of passion was shattered like a bubble at her words. A wave of bitter self-contempt that its existence had been possible swept over him. The blood surged into his cheeks. Ninitta saw the flush and her eye kindled.
She sighed a little impatiently, looking into the fire with mournful eyes. She thought of the marriages with which her destiny had been most intimately connected, her own ill- starred mating, the union of Herman and Ninitta, that of Fenton and Edith.
Ninitta had vented her jealous rage upon the bas-relief, destroying the head of December which she heard Fenton say must have been done con amore, and the beautiful May for which she herself had posed. Mrs. Fenton's wedding reception was largely attended.
I shall find somebody to read it to me. Oh, you are good. That is the best kindness you could do me." She pressed his hands eagerly, a divine yearning, a gleam of passionate hope shone in her dark eyes. Fenton tried to smile, but despite himself his lip trembled. He had hard work to control himself, but he reflected that with him lay the responsibility of dissuading Ninitta from her mad project.
"Oh, forgive me! I will do any thing you wish. I will go away and leave you." He stooped and raised her by main force, yet tenderly. "There, there, Ninitta," he said, "I was wrong. I do believe you are a good girl; but you should not have played the spy." He soothed her as well as he was able, her violence spending itself in passionate tears.
Word Of The Day