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"You may live to the end of your life unmolested of man, for us, but you must never look upon Mollie Dane's face more." Carl Walraven sunk down into a chair and covered his face, with a groan. Hugh Ingelow turned to go. "Stop!" Mr. Walraven said, hoarsely. "What is to become of her? Are you going to marry her, Hugh Ingelow?" "I decline answering that question, Mr.
I'll do it, by thunder!" "Very well," said Mrs. Walraven, quietly. "Don't get excited, and don't make a noise. I knew you would." "But what will the old lady say?" "Who cares for the old lady?" retorted Mme. Blanche, contemptuously. "Not you, I hope. Tell her it's an insane patient you have brought to her for quiet and sea air.
Is it after dinner? I'm dreadfully tired and hungry!" "Mollie! Good heavens, Mollie! is this really you?" gasped Mr. Walraven, staring aghast. "Now now!" cried Miss Dane, testily; "what's the good of your asking ridiculous questions, Guardy Walraven? Where's your eyesight? Don't you see it's me? Will you kindly let me pass, gentlemen? or am I to stand here all night on exhibition?"
"Never!" the woman cried, "while you are beneath this roof. If ever you settle down in a house of your own, and your husband permits you to aid so disreputable a being as I am, I may listen to you. All you have now belongs to Carl Walraven; and to offer me a farthing of Carl Walraven's money is to offer me the deadliest of insults." "How you hate him! how he must have wronged you!"
The April day had been very long, and very, very dull in the handsome Walraven Fifth Avenue palace. Long and lamentable, as the warning cry of the banshee, wailed the dreary blast. Ceaselessly, dismally beat the rain against the glass.
It is too late for any other alternative now. Don't fear Mr. Walraven will hardly allow his ward to prosecute his wife." "Traitor and coward!" Blanche Walraven cried in fierce scorn. "I wish my tongue had blistered with the words that urged you on." "I wish it had," returned the doctor, coolly. "I wish, as I often have wished since, that I had never listened to your tempting.
Only you and I know the secret." Dr. Oleander looked at his fair relative with a very gloomy face. "A secret that two know is a secret no longer." "Do you dare doubt me?" demanded the lady, fiercely. "No yes I don't know. Oh! never look so haughtily insulted, Mrs. Walraven. I almost doubt myself. It's my first felony, and it is natural a fellow should quake a little.
The waiter ushered him into the hotel parlor, cold and prim as it is in the nature of hotel parlors to be. Mr. Walraven sat down and stared vaguely at the papered walls, rather at a loss as to what he should say to this piquant Mollie, and wondering how he would feel if she laughed at him. "And she will laugh," he thought, with a mental groan; "she's the sort of girl that laughs at everything.
The tall footman threw it open and ushered in Sir Roger Trajenna. The stately old baronet looked ten years older in these few days. Anxiety told upon him more hardly than his seventy yews. "Good-evening, Sir Roger!" cried Mr. Walraven, advancing eagerly. "Any news of Mollie?" He expected to hear "No," but the baronet said "Yes."
Walraven gives a farewell dinner in honor of the mournful occasion, on Thursday to-morrow evening. The party is select very on your account, you know only Sir Roger Trajenna, Walraven's lawyer, Sardonyx, and myself. Now, when we're all assembled, discussing your absence, as I'll take care we shall be, and Oleander is telling lies by the yard, do you appear like a thunder-clap and transfix him.
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