United States or North Macedonia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


Thus her banal mind read the tragedy of these two human lives. Morella Winmarleigh had been taking an evening stroll with Lord Wensleydown. They had come upon the two in the summer-house quite by accident, but now they had caught them they would stick to them, and make their walk as tiresome as possible, they both decided to themselves.

When Miss Winmarleigh reached the table curiosity seized her. She guessed what had been Theodora's errand. She would like to see her writing and to whom the letters were addressed. No one was about anywhere. All the correspondence was already there, as in five minutes or less the post would go.

It began to dawn upon her this might be Hector's reason in coming, not herself at all; and one of those slow, internal rages which she seldom indulged in began to creep in her veins. Thus it was that poor Theodora, all unconscious of any evil, was already surrounded by three bitter enemies Mildred, Lady Harrowfield, and Morella Winmarleigh.

If Morella Winmarleigh had glanced round at his face, even her thick perceptions must have grasped the disturbance which was marked there, as he stood back in the shadow and gazed with angry eyes. The moment she had seen him come into the box Mrs. Devlyn had said, "I want you to notice a man over there, Mrs. Brown, in the box exactly opposite; on the grand tier do you see?"

Far away in Shadowland Josiah heard those words, "There lived no greater gentleman." And if he did they fell like balm on his sad soul. It was eighteen months after this before they met again Hector and Theodora; and now it was May, and the flowers bloomed and the birds sang, and all the world was young and fair only Morella Winmarleigh was growing into a bitter old maid.

Anne was a frondeuse, while her mother's mind was fashioned in carved lines and strict boundaries of thought and action. Meanwhile, Hector reached the opera, and made his way to the omnibus box where he had his seat. He felt he could not stand Morella Winmarleigh just yet. The second act of "Faust" was almost over, and with his glass he swept the rows of boxes in vain to find Theodora.

"I thought everything in Paris was lovely." "You should go over and see for yourself," he said, "then you could judge. I think most things there are lovely, though." Miss Winmarleigh raised her glasses now and examined the house. Her eyes lighted at last on Theodora. "Dear Lady Bracondale," she said, "do look at that woman in black velvet. What splendid pearls! Do you think they are real?

Half the house had been interested in the new-comer, the beautiful new-comer with the wonderful pearls, who must be worth while in some way, or she would not be under the wing of Florence Devlyn. By the time Hector again entered their box in the last act, Miss Winmarleigh had obtained all the information she wanted from one of the many visitors who came to pay their court to the heiress.

She had none of that feeling when with Miss Winmarleigh she suffered in the company of her daughter Anne, who said things so often she did not quite understand, yet which she dimly felt might have two meanings, and one of them a meaning she most probably would disapprove of. She loved Anne, of course, but oh, that she could have been more like herself or Morella Winmarleigh!