United States or Faroe Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
On hearing of Widow Doran's distress, he gave orders that a portion of each meal should be regularly sent down to her and her son; and from that period forward they were both supported principally from his table. "In this way some months had passed, and still Vengeance was undisturbed in his farm.
Doran's family, and in entrusting his child to her, Doran had given a strong illustration of one of the singularities of his character. Though by no means the debauchee that Sowerby Bridge declared him, he was not a man of conventional morality; yet, in the case of people who were in any way entrusted to his care, he showed a curious severity of practice.
He would have to think of some scheme by which the girl could get her rights, and the world could be left in ignorance of Rose Doran's fraud. To accomplish this, he must sacrifice himself utterly. He must disappear and be forgotten by his friends a penniless man, without a country. And Billie Brookton would be lost to him.
Some women, having done what she had done for the love of a man and for their own vanity, would have gone out of the world in silence still for the love of the man, and for their own vanity. Vanity had been the ruling passion of Rose Doran's life. Max had realized it before. Yet something in the end had been stronger than vanity, and had beaten it down. He wondered dimly what the thing was.
A history of the English stage must necessarily be in part a history of one of the most delightful of subjects old London, of which from time to time we catch extraordinary glimpses in Dr. Doran's pages. From 1682 to 1695, as if the Restoration had not come, there was but one theatre in London. In Charles I.'s time Shoreditch was the dramatic quarter of London par excellence.
Madeline was thinking of a look she had caught on Miss Doran's face when the portfolio disclosed its contents; of Miss Doran's silence; of certain other person' looks and silence or worse than silence. The knitting of her brows became deeper; Marsh felt an uneasy movement in her frame. "Speak plainly," he said. "It's far better." "It's very hot, Clifford. Sit on a chair; we can talk better."
Perhaps, if in Edwin Reeves's judgment silence would in that event be justified, Max might accept this verdict. There was that one grain of hope for the future if it could be called hope. That person was Billie Brookton. Max had dimly expected opposition from Edwin Reeves, whose advice might be what Rose Doran's had been: to give money, and let everything remain as it had been.
"You mean, of course, that I am not worthy of Cecily. I can't grant any such conclusion." "Let us leave that aside for the present," said Mallard. "Will you tell me how it came to pass that you met Miss Doran and her companions at Pompeii?" Elgar hesitated; whereupon the other added quickly: "If it was with Miss Doran's anticipation, I want no details." "No, it wasn't." Their looks met.
Perhaps fear, lest soon, on the other side of the dark valley, she should have to meet reproach in the only eyes she had ever loved. And she needed help in crossing Jack Doran's help. Maybe this was her way of reaching out for it. She had told the truth; and she seemed to think that was enough. She advised Max to leave things as they were, after all. And he was tempted to obey.
And Max learned that Rose had made an informal will, leaving him all her jewellery, with the request that it should be valued by experts and sold, he taking the money to "use as he thought fit." She had made this will years ago, it seemed, directly after Jack Doran's death, while her conscience was awake. Max guessed what had been in her mind.
Word Of The Day