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Updated: May 9, 2025
Be that as it might, shortly afterwards, when Mr Elliston signified his intention of inviting Major George, Major George's young bride, and the young bride's elder sister, to pay him a visit, Miss Constantia expressed a desire to return home.
She was a charming little maiden of twelve or thirteen, this visitor, a charming little maiden with the darkest of dark hair that hung in a thick shining braid tied at the end with a broad red ribbon. Molly Elliston thought she was a beauty, as she looked at her dimpled smiling face, a beauty, though she was an Indian.
"She, too, was a stranger here, Elliston. Her home was in Burlington, and she has been brought to this by a villain who ought to pass the remainder of his days behind prison bars, if not conclude them at a rope's end. Do you know Hubert Vander?" There was a stern ring in the detective's voice, and a look of deep, indignant feeling pervading his face.
When she grew older she would see that it would come right; husbands were always so; the wider life reached by marriage would atone in many ways. And Lady Elliston, all with sweetest discretion, had asked gentle questions. Some of them Amabel had not understood; some she had.
Her glance strayed to the portrait of Tiger Elliston that stared down at her from its bullet-shattered frame upon the wall. The eyes of the portrait seemed to bore deep into her own, and the words of MacNair flashed through her brain the words he had used as he gazed into the eyes of that selfsame portrait. Unconsciously fiercely she repeated those words aloud: "By God! Yon is the face of a man!"
The door to her prison creaked on its hinges, and a man entered and stood confronting her in the gray light. It was Harper Elliston. There was a smile on his sinister countenance, and he stroked his beard with the coolest insolence imaginable. "How do you find yourself this morning, my dear?" questioned Elliston in a low voice. "This is your work, villain!"
He had been unfortunate enough to find Agnes Elliston "not at home" upon the two occasions when he had called since their disagreement upon the subject of the Sharpes, but now he called her up by telephone precisely as if nothing had happened, and explained to her how good his prospects were; good enough, in fact, he added, that he could look matrimony very squarely in the eye.
"A gentleman?" The frown that blackened the brows of Harper Elliston was not pleasant to see. He was not pleased that Nell should receive other male company than himself. "I will enter. I think she will see me when she knows who has come," said he, pushing past the negress, and entering the front room.
"You spoke as though you were sorry for me, as though I had been injured. It touches him." "But," Lady Elliston had flushed very slightly, "it does touch him. I blame Hugh for this. He ought not to have allowed it. He ought not to have accepted such misplaced penitence. You were a mere child, and Hugh neglected you shamefully." "I was not a mere child," said Amabel. "I was a sinful woman."
He says his group is all done but the two heads, and he must have yours and the baby's. But he'll tell you all about it. Where is he? Elliston, I mean. I've brought him some short frocks. Where are they, Mr. Gunther? If he's put them in his pockets, he'll never find them they are feet long the pockets, I mean. Bless you, Mary Byrd, how good it is to see you!
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