Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: July 15, 2025
I watched Francezka's behavior to him and came to the conclusion that in spite of the entertainment she derived from his company, she liked him no better than she had two years and a half before. I happened to speak to her one day of the resemblance between the two brothers, which was so marked. "How can you think that?" she replied. "I never mistake one for the other.
We walked up and down the river bank under a lowering night sky speaking but little, and that mostly of Francezka. Gaston had the same golden hopes that Francezka had. Beautiful visions of their future life arose before him. He was full of a noble enthusiasm for his profession and looked to achieving distinction as a counterbalance to Francezka's fortune.
He dragged me out into the beautiful old garden, with its tangled shrubbery, its grass-grown walks, its myrtle trees, showing black against a pale night sky, and the great river rolling past. I thought he would at once make me some great confidence, for I had no doubt that he had won Francezka's love.
I think the attitude of her mind had something to do with Francezka's obstinate clinging to the belief that Gaston Cheverny was alive and would be found. Madame Riano's belief was superstitious, pure and simple. She actually believed that nobody married to a Kirkpatrick could be called out of this world without ceremony.
I was astounded; I had never seen Francezka overcome with bashfulness before. I sat silent, watching her. She trembled, and in a little while the red blood crept from her cheek, into her white neck under her muslin kerchief. Some instinct told me that this soft tumult referred to Gaston Cheverny, and that his fate and Francezka's were now forever linked together.
At the idea of being charged with Mademoiselle Capello's safety, he looked as if he had just come into a great estate. Count Saxe then gave him a pocket map, and took him within to give him a considerable sum of money. When they were gone, I heard a soft voice behind me whispering my name, and, turning, I saw Francezka's fair face at a lower window, near to me.
And I saw certain things by "the moonlight of memory." So Francezka's wild heart had found rest at last, and it rejoiced me. But deep in my own heart was the sense of loss the loss of those dreams wherein Francezka was mine. One often suffers more from the loss of the ideal than the real.
I had often remarked upon the natural good sense which was the basis of Francezka's character, and saw at once the justness of her course. "So," she said, bravely recovering her cheerfulness, "you will remain here to rest, and you shall leave when you like and I will follow you within the week."
It was to be expected that Francezka and Gaston should live with splendor and gaiety at the Hôtel Kirkpatrick, and they did; this, too, upon a scale that probably made Francezka's father, the prudent old Scotchman, writhe in his grave. Balls, masques, concerts and ballets followed each other with dazzling swiftness.
At the inn she noticed a pointer that somewhat resembled Bold. The dog took a fancy to Francezka, which she returned, being touched by the dog's resemblance to her old friend. The innkeeper's little daughter, not ten years old, seeing this, said in Francezka's hearing, that the dog was as fond of "the great lady" as it had been of "the French prisoner with his head bound up."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking