Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: August 25, 2024
"The girl has some secret sorrow which she is hiding from the world," she thought, anxiously. "I must find out what it is." She had been an inmate of Bernardine's home for a week before she learned that the girl was soon to be wedded.
The girl took the money which Bernardine handed to her, her eyes following every movement of the white hand that placed the wallet back in her pocket. "You must be rich to have so much money about you," she said, slowly, with a laugh that grated harshly on Bernardine's sensitive ears.
This idea comforted Marie beyond Bernardine's most sanguine expectations. "A beautiful tin wreath," she said several times. "I know the exact kind. When my father died, we put one on his grave." That same evening, during table-d'hôte, Bernardine told the Disagreeable Man the history of the afternoon. He had been developing photographs, and had heard nothing.
He cried his heart out, this Disagreeable Man. Then he took the letter which he had just been writing, and he tore it into fragments. IT was now more than three weeks since Bernardine's return to London. She had gone back to her old home, at her uncle's second-hand book-shop.
It was a sketch of life at Newport by a special correspondent, telling of the gayety that was going on among the people there, particularly at the Ocean House. Nearly, half a column was given to extolling the beauty of young Mrs. Gardiner, née Sally Pendleton, the bride of Doctor Jay Gardiner, her diamonds, her magnificent costumes, and smart turn-outs. The paper fell from Bernardine's hands.
Bernardine's father told her, hinting triumphantly that that event would mean the dawn of a more prosperous future for the family, as her intended husband was very rich had money to burn. "Don't say much about him to Bernardine," he added, quickly; "for she's not in love with him by any means." "Then why is she going to marry him?" asked Miss Rogers, amazedly.
ROBERT ALLITSEN came to the old book-shop to see Zerviah Holme before returning to the mountains. He found him reading Gibbon. These two men had stood by Bernardine's grave. "I was beginning to know her," the old man said. "I have always known her," the young man said. "I cannot remember a time when she has not been part of my life." "She loved you," Zerviah said.
"Your father will miss you," she said tentatively. "I should think probably not," answered Bernardine. "One is not easily missed, you know." There was a twinkle in Bernardine's eye as she added, "He is probably occupied with other things!" "What is your father?" asked Mrs. Reffold, in her most coaxing tones. "I don't know what he is now," answered Bernardine placidly. "But he was a genius.
She takes no pleasure in hawking, nor in visiting; and she did not eat more than six of Soeur Bernardine's best conserves. She does nothing but watch for tidings of Madame. And she sent for me, as I told you, and conjured me, if I knew where you were, or had any means of finding out, to implore you to trust to her.
The little Polish governess who clutched so eagerly at her paltry winnings, caressing those centimes with the same fondness and fever that a greater gambler grasps his thousands of francs, she, had left too; and, indeed, most of Bernardine's acquaintances had gone their several ways, after six months' constant intercourse, and companionship, saying good-bye with the same indifference as though they were saying good-morning or good-afternoon.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking