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Updated: May 23, 2025
Pen heard Blanche's piano breaking out into brilliant music as he went down to join his uncle; and they walked away together. Arthur briefly told him what he had done. "What was to be done?" he asked. "What is to be done, begad?" said the old gentleman. "What is to be done but to leave it alone?
The bluish light of the moon added to the paleness of the orphans; they held each other in a half embrace, and Rose had buried her head on Blanche's bosom. "They must have fainted through fear," exclaimed Dagobert, running to fetch his gourd. "Poor things! after a day of so much excitement, it is not surprising."
At first the girls took no notice, walking along in their most dignified manner; but when the boy came quite close and deliberately shouted "Carrots" into Blanche's ear, Marjory turned upon him like a fury, crying, "Don't you dare to say that again, or I'll knock you down." The boy burst out laughing, and straightway repeated the objectionable word. Marjory wheeled round in a moment.
Bernard was not re-assured by hearing that Gordon had a great deal to say, and he expected a sudden explosion of bitterness on the subject of Blanche's irremediable triviality. The afternoon was a lovely one the day was a perfect example of the mellowest mood of autumn.
Bolton had a sudden suspicion, from the splendor of Blanche's appearance, that it must be a play-actor, or something worse. "What do you want with Fanny, pray?" she asked. "I am Lady Clavering's daughter you have heard of Sir Francis Clavering? And I wish very much indeed to see Fanny Bolton." "Pray step in, Miss Betsy-Jane, where's Fanny?"
Since Frances was taken away by the commissary, the bed had not been made; at night Dagobert had thrown himself upon it for a few hours in his clothes, when, worn out with fatigue, and crushed by despair, he had returned from new and vain attempts to discover Rose and Blanche's prison-house.
Gradually she became a less haggard-looking creature and the years seemed to fall away. When she had done she examined herself anxiously. The dread that her eye would get "out," as Blanche's had, was upon her.
A little behind was Mary, winding one of Blanche's silks over the back of a chair, and so often looking up to revel in the contemplation of Harry's face, that her skein was in a wild tangle, which she studiously concealed lest the sight should compel Richard to come and unravel it with those wonderful fingers of his.
If she could have abdicated her empire to Blanche Leary or have shared it with her, she would have yielded gracefully; but very palpably some other influence than Blanche's had driven joy from her son's countenance and lightness from his heart.
"It would not be to every one, Guly, I would give poor Blanche's history, or what I know of it; but to you I am certain I can do so safely. To begin then at the beginning: She was the daughter of one of the wealthiest bankers in this city, who died several yeas ago insolvent, and left his wife and child destitute.
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