Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 25, 2025
But as Bernardine advanced at that mad, flying pace, she heard the man shout: "My horse, by all that is wonderful! But that isn't Mag in the buggy. Who in thunder can it be in that wagon, anyhow?" That loud, harsh voice! No wonder Bernardine's heart almost ceased beating as she heard it. It was the voice of Jasper Wilde.
And afterwards, as time went on and Magda, wearing the grey veil and grey serge dress of a voluntary penitent, found herself absorbed into the daily life of the community, it was often only the recollection of Sister Bernardine's serene, kind eyes which helped her to hold out.
"Surely you can not be the great Miss Rogers of California, of whom I have heard her speak thousands of times?" "Yes, I am Miss Rogers, my dear; great once, in the eyes of the world, when I had money, but despised now, that I am reduced and in want." In a moment Bernardine's arms were around her, and tears were falling from the girl's beautiful dark eyes.
"Ah! no wonder the man I loved deserted me for this beautiful being all life, all sparkle, all fire," was the thought that rushed through Bernardine's breaking heart. Then suddenly the old lady remembered her, and turned to her quickly, saying: "Come forward, my dear girl. I wish to present my new companion to my son and his bride." Bernardine stood still.
That was a remnant of Catharina's past. She had always loved everything that was ailing and weakly. Her hand rested on Bernardine's hand. Bernardine pressed it in kindly sympathy, thinking the while of the girl's past happiness and resent bereavement. "Liza is betrothed," she said, as though to herself. "They don't tell me; but I know. I was betrothed once." She went on knitting.
"Asleep at last," she muttered, rising from her seat and crossing the room with a stealthy, cat-like movement, until she reached Bernardine's side. Bending over her, she laid her hand lightly on her shoulder. Bernardine stirred uneasily, muttering something in her, sleep about "loving him so fondly," the last of the sentence ending in a troubled sigh.
She tried to read a book which lay on the table. She counted the lines and dots on the wall-paper. She thought about the dead man; and about the living woman. She had pitied him; but when she looked at the stricken face of his wife, Bernardine's whole heart rose up in pity for her. Remorse would come, although it might not remain long.
She was rewarded at length by seeing the great dark eyes slowly open, and the crimson tide of life drift back to the pale, cold cheeks and quivering lips. A look of wonder filled Bernardine's eyes as she beheld Miss Rogers bending over her. "Was it a dream, some awful dream?" she said, excitedly, catching at her friend's hands and clinging piteously to them.
ONE specially fine morning a knock came at Bernardine's door. She opened it, and found Robert Allitsen standing there, trying to recover his breath. "I am going to Loschwitz, a village about twelve miles off," he said. "And I have ordered a sledge. Do you care to come too?" "If I may pay my share," she said.
He looked fixedly at a small vial he held in his hand as he reached the nearest street lamp, and eyed with much curiosity the dark liquid it contained. "I would do anything on earth to gain Bernardine's love," he muttered; "and for that reason I am willing to try anything that promises success in my wooing.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking