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One evening in the last week of the month Naseby and Lady Madeleine were sitting together in a corner of a vast drawing-room in Carlton House Terrace. The drawing-room was Mrs. Allison's. She had returned about a fortnight before from Bad Wildheim, and was now making an effort, for the boy's sake, to see some society.
He had left Allison's home to hasten to a point three miles distant to rouse the strikers with warnings of the proposed sending out of the train, only to find that in that as in everything else he was too late. With sympathizing spies and friends in every nook and corner, how could it be otherwise?
The sight of the poor little blistered face brought the tears to Miss Allison's eyes, and she called two of the coloured men, directing them to carry Jonesy to the house, and then go at once for a doctor. But the professor interfered, insisting that Jonesy should be taken to his house.
Elsie brushed away a tear and took up her book again for she had been engaged in preparing a lesson for the next day, when interrupted by this unexpected visit from her aunt. Adelaide went directly to her brother's door, and receiving an invitation to enter in answer to her knock, was the next instant standing by his side, with Miss Allison's letter in her hand.
Vandyke received me with effusion. It was not the first time she had seen me since my marriage, but it was the first time she had seen me alone. "My dear!" she exclaimed, turning me about till my unwilling face met the light, "is this the wild-wood lassie I gave into Mr. Allison's keeping a week ago!" "It is the house!" I excitedly gasped, "the empty, lonely, echoing house!
Then the brutal wrong of Allison's accusation, told her with such well-simulated sympathy and reluctance, but with such exquisitely feminine stab in every sentence; the collapse, the struggle, the suffering, the half-reluctant convalescence and the sudden sunshine of that afternoon when he turned from the carriage of the girl to whom he was declared engaged, let her drive away without another glance, and stood there, tall and stalwart and manly, his soft brown eyes fastened on her face, hers, Jenny Wallen's, a penniless, motherless, homeless working-girl.
It was right in the point of Tom Allison's tongue to say to Mark, "Didn't I tell you so?" but he caught his breath in time, and tried to look surprised. "Who were they?" he managed to ask. "Didn't I say they were all masked?" inquired Marcy. "Well, they said something, didn't they." "They spoke about half a dozen words." "And didn't you recognize their voices?" "I did not.
The news that Barbara was lost had reached Miss Sarah hours before Allison's private car brought the girl and her father and Hardwick Elliott back to Morrison. Thereupon, with her first glimpse of Barbara's wanly mute and suffering face, she had pieced the details together; she had told herself, with sorrow and understanding in her heart, that she must no longer interfere.
As the power of the state grows the energy of the spirit dwindles; and if ever Allison's ideal should be realized, if ever the activity of the state should extend through and through to every department of life, the universal ease and comfort which may thus be disseminated throughout society will have been purchased dearly at the price of the soul.
A year had passed since poor Allison's sun set so stormily. It was curious that his death marked the beginning of a new life for Sally; but so it was. It had changed her attitude of mind towards things eternal, from one of placid indifference to active inquiry. Paul's assertion that "nobody knew" satisfied no longer, and she turned from him to Mr. Curzon.
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