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Updated: May 28, 2025
Behold, wishing to screen her inquisitiveness, plunged into a description of Petershof life, speaking enthusiastically about everything, except the scenery, which she did not mention. After a time she ventured to begin once more taking soundings. But some how or other, those bright eyes of Bernardine, which looked at her so searchingly, made her a little nervous, and, perhaps, a little indiscreet.
"Yes, you shall marry me, though Heaven and earth combine to take you from me!" muttered Victor Lamont, gazing down upon the pure, marble-white face of Bernardine. "It is said that some day, sooner or later, every man meets his fate, and when he does meet that one of all others, his whole life changes.
Bernardine realized at once that this stranger mistook her for some one else some one who had expected to see him. She tried to wrench herself free from the steel-like grasp of his fingers, that had closed like a vise about her slender wrist; but not a muscle responded to her will, nor could she find voice to utter a single sound. "Let us come to an understanding, my dear Mrs. Gardiner.
"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.
"What caused your sudden illness, Bernardine?" questioned Miss Rogers, earnestly. "You were apparently well when I left you an hour since." Still Bernardine clung to her with that awful look of agony in her beautiful eyes, but uttering no word. "Has she gone?" she murmured, at length. "Has who gone?" questioned Miss Rogers, wondering what she meant.
"No, no!" cried Bernardine; "if a man can not love you when you are poor, friendless and homeless, he can not love you with all the trappings of wealth about you. I say again, I thank you with all my heart and soul for what you are disposed to do for me; but I can not accept it at your hands, dear friend.
She said nothing to Bernardine, but quietly wrote a long and very earnest letter to her young friend, asking him to come without delay to the street and number where he had left her a week previous, as she had something of great importance to consult him about.
I can remain here no longer. Where shall I take you to?" "I will not leave my home." "Santa Anna is almost here. As soon as he arrives, Fray Ignatius and twelve of the Bernardine monks are coming here. I was told that yesterday." "Then I will go to the convent. I and my daughters." "No, mother; if you go to the convent, Antonia and Isabel must go with me."
The prior's nephew, a young Bernardine, accompanied by a lay brother and two or three servants, set out across country that night, and brought information to the King of all this disorder, begging his Majesty to save his worthy uncle's life.
But he did not say that: he just urged her quietly to have her husband buried in Petershof; and she yielded. So they laid him to rest in the dreary cemetery. Bernardine went to the funeral, much against the Disagreeable Man's wish. "You are looking like a ghost yourself," he said to her. "Come out with me into the country instead." But she shook her head. "Another day," she said. "And Mrs.
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