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"Miss Rougeant, let me see oh yes, I knew her once, but I am afraid I should not recognise her now, she must be a fine lady by this time." "Fine; she's simply charming." "I should think so; I don't doubt you at all, Mr. Soher." "There is a young man who is paying his attentions to her." "He is very fortunate." "That does not suit me. I intended to marry her." "You! her cousin." "Why not?"
"Oh yes, do believe me." "I believe you," she said sneeringly. The fever was again coming upon her. She began to wander in her speech. Mr. Soher, at a sign from the mother, who had followed him into the room, withdrew. His brain was on fire. His heart was full of the deepest and keenest anguish. "What have I done?" he muttered. "I wanted to be thought a saint. Not being one, I acted the hypocrite.
They walked the whole distance which separated the two houses without a word being exchanged between them. Mr. Soher's thoughts were with the dead; his companion was already grieving for the daughter which she felt sure she was about to lose. Mr. Soher was ushered near the dying woman's bed.
"Because," responded he, "when you told me about your father's plans, I saw your face. If there is any truth in physiognomy, you recoil with horror at the prospect of one day marrying Tom Soher." She changed the subject of the conversation and nothing more was said about it that evening. Going home; Frank thought of the difficulties that were rising before him.
So the day following his unpleasant discovery, Tom Soher directed his steps towards the old woman's cottage. He knocked at the door. No one answered. "She must be in the garden," he said to himself. He accordingly went round the back of the house and espied her, laboriously occupied in trying to dig a few parsnips. "Good morning, Mrs.
The inmates of the "Prenoms" did not please her. There was her uncle, Mr. Soher, morose and stern. He was one of this class of people who seem to be continually looking upwards, their mind so much occupied in contemplating the upper regions that they continually stumble against the blocks which lie in life's path.
"Father," she said, her face almost as white as the cloth which she was spreading on the table, "it is useless to speak any more about it, it pains me to have to speak thus to you, but I will never marry Tom Soher." She heard the grinding of her father's teeth.
He made an effort to carry the tumbler which he was holding to his lips, but his nerves and muscles refused to act. Here, we may as well say that this man's name was Tom Soher. "What's the matter, Tom?" said one of the men. "Nothing," responded he, making use of a very old form of lie. At this reassuring statement, the company resumed their conversation, and their drink.
She determined to show a bright face and to be as pleasant as she possibly could. She arrived at the house of her hosts rather late. Mrs. Soher welcomed her in a piping voice. She wore her everyday apparel, and that was not of the brightest. "Come in, my dear; you see, my dear, I have not had time yet to change clothes, but I'll be ready in a few minutes. "Sit down, my dear; why are you so late?
Soher was carried to her room upstairs and left to the care of her daughter who applied restoratives. The corpse was carried into another room and laid upon a bed. The eyes remained wide open. The neighbours sent away the carriage and its owner; one of them remained in the house while the other went for a doctor. Mrs.
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