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Updated: June 4, 2025
I will give you what I can of the honors and glories so shall we consider our bargain equal?" This was not lover-like, and Mrs. Cricklander knew it, but it was better to have got it all over. She was well aware that the "honors and glories" would compensate her for the outlay of her dollars, but her red mouth shut with a snap as she registered a thought.
Arabella was each day sent up with the subtlest messages to the poor invalid, which her honor made her unwillingly repeat truthfully. Cecilia Cricklander was an angel of sweet, watchful care, it seemed, and John Derringham really felt deeply grateful to her. Then the moment came when she decided she would see him.
Cricklander would be obliged to take an after-cure at the highly situated castle of an Austrian Prince, an old friend of hers where the air was most bracing, she wrote.
It took nearly two years, but the divorce was completed at last, and Cecilia Cricklander found herself perfectly free and with all the keen scent of the hunter for the chase dilating her fine nostrils as she stood upon the deck of the great ocean liner bound for Liverpool.
He was frankly in love, and meant to leave no stone unturned to oust John Derringham from his position as fiancé of the lady John Derringham, whom he hated from the innermost core of his heart! Mrs. Cricklander fenced with him admirably.
And here she looked down, and her white hand, with its perfectly kept nails, lying upon the coverlet so near him, John Derringham lifted it in his feeble grasp and touched it with his lips. He was so grateful for her kindness and affected by her beauty; he could not do less, he felt. And after that, with a deliciously girlish and confused gasp, Mrs. Cricklander had hastily quitted the room.
Cricklander was staying, waiting for him to accompany her on to Venice, he found her in a very bad temper. She felt that she had not been treated with that deference and respect which was her due, to say nothing of the ardor that a lover ought to have shown by hastening to her side. Why had he motored, spending ten days on a journey that he could have accomplished in two?
"It is what I have come at post-haste from Venice to do, Master," John Derringham said. "Mrs. Cricklander was kind enough to release me on Saturday evening she has other views, it seems!" and he laughed with his old boyish gayety. "Well, I won't keep you," Cheiron answered. "Bring my little girl back to the hotel when these gates shut.
His whole personality appeared to be changing; he was taciturn or cynically caustic, casting jibes at all manner of things he had once held sacred. But after a week of abject misery, he refused to bear any more, and when Mrs. Cricklander grew tired of Florence, and decided to move on to Venice, he announced his intention of taking a few days' tour by himself.
After a few days of wandering, during which he strove not to let grief or depression master him again, he sent a telegram to Venice to Cecilia Cricklander. And on that Saturday evening, he walked into her sitting-room with a pale and composed face. She was seated upon the sofa and arranged with every care, and was looking triumphantly beautiful as she smoked a cigarette.
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