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Walraven said, impressively. "I will do my part. Are you equal to yours?" "I never fail where I mean to succeed," answered Dr. Guy, with equal emphasis. "Sooner or later, I triumph! I shall triumph now! 'All things are possible to him who knows how to wait. I have waited, and this night gives me my reward." The house door closed after the young man. Mrs.
I never took you for a born idiot before, Guy Oleander." "Thanks, my fair relative! But it is quite as disagreeable to be refused by a 'goosey girl of seventeen' as by a young lady of seven-and-twenty. Your age, my dear Blanche, is it not?" "Never mind my age!" retorted Mrs. Walraven, sharply. "My age has nothing to do with it.
The lawyer bowed; his employer nodded carelessly. "How do, Sardonyx? Find a chair. I've got back, you see. And now, how's things progressing?" "Favorably, Mr. Walraven. All goes well." "And madame has gone packing, I hope?" "Mrs. Walraven left for Yonkers yesterday. I accompanied her and saw her safely to her new home." "How does she take it?" "In sullen silence.
Walraven closed the door, locked it, strode back, and stood glaring down upon his wife with folded arms and fiercely shining eyes. "Well, madame?" "Spare me, Carl." She held up her arms in dire affright. "Forgive me, my husband." "Never!" thundered Carl Walraven "never! you base, plotting Jezebel! The fate you allotted to Mollie Dane shall fall upon yourself.
And now, how do you like my dress? I came in expressly to ask you, for the carriage waits." "Leave the room!" cried Carl Walraven, in a voice of thunder. "Be gone!" "You are violent," said Blanche, with a provoking shrug and smile, but prudently retreating. "You forget your voice may be heard beyond this room.
I've been the greatest villain unhung to the only woman who ever did love me, and now this is retribution." He groaned dismally as he rose and kissed Mollie good-night. "Go to your room, Mollie, and let us forget, if we can." "Ah!" said Mollie, "if we can. Guardy, good-night." Next morning, at breakfast, Mrs. Walraven did not appear.
Society was electrified at finding Miss Dane back, and looked eagerly for the sequel to this little romance. They got it from Mr. Walraven. Mr. Walraven, bland as oil, told them his ward had received on her bridal night a summons to the bedside of a dying and very near relative. Miss Dane, ever impulsive and eccentric, had gone.
Ah! what, was that?" The cousins were standing near one of the long, richly draped windows, and the silken hangings had fluttered suddenly. "Nothing but the wind," replied Dr. Oleander, carelessly. "Very well, Blanche, I take you at your word. I will ask Mollie to-night." Mrs. Walraven nodded, and turned to go. "Ask her as quickly as possible.
Blanche wandered in the land of meditation, and had her little plot all cut and dry as the toy Swiss clock on the low mantel struck up a lively waltz preparatory to striking eleven. Ere the last silvery chime had ceased vibrating, the door of the boudoir opened and Dr. Guy Oleander walked in. "Good-morning, Mrs. Walraven," said the toxicologist, briskly. "You sent for me. What's the matter?"
Sardonyx bowed and took his hat and his departure at once. Mr. Ingelow and he crossed each other on the threshold. The young artist entered, his handsome face set, and grave, and stern. Mr. Walraven saw that cold, fixed face with a sinking heart. "Good-morning, Ingelow," he said, trying to nod and speak indifferently. "Take a seat and tell me the news. I've been out of town, you know."
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