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Perhaps her heart was never so wrung. At times she seemed stupefied, her eyes were fixed, and then, at the least noise, she shook like a half-uprooted tree which the woodsman drags with a rope to hasten its fall. Suddenly, a loud report from a dozen guns echoed from a distance. Marie turned pale and grasped Francine's hand. "I am dying," she cried; "they have killed him!"
And I now only exact one condition: that is, that Francine's wedding shall be from my home. We were schoolmates, and sisters of the heart, though our home was a very quiet one. My father was averse to all family intimacies. The executors are ready to make the transfer of the money whenever you prove up poor Randall's will." "And I," said Witherspoon, "exact one thing in return.
Idle, vain, malicious, false to know that Francine's character presented these faults, without any discoverable merits to set against them, was surely enough to justify a gloomy view of the prospect, if she succeeded in winning the position of Emily's friend. Alban reasoned it out logically in this way without satisfying himself, and without accounting for the remembrance that haunted him of Mrs.
But the love which accepts the meanest crumbs of comfort that can be thrown to it which fawns and grovels and deliberately deceives itself, in its own intensely selfish interests was the love that burned in Francine's breast. The wretched girl believed Mirabel with such an ecstatic sense of belief that she trembled in every limb, and dropped into the nearest chair.
The young girl lay in the same position, but she seemed oppressed by a nightmare, for big tears rolled down her cheeks and sighs rent her breast. La Roulante went to the side of the bed. "Well, my child," she said, endeavoring to soften her harsh voice, "how are you to-night? Do you want anything?" Francine's eyelids fluttered, and then slowly opened.
Francine's obstinacy was not conquered yet. "My education has been sadly neglected," she continued; "but I have had some little instruction in drawing. You will not find me so ignorant as some of the other girls." She waited a little, anticipating a few complimentary words. Alban waited also in silence.
When Alban and Mrs. Ellmother arrived at the back door of the house, they found it locked. The only light visible, along the whole length of the building, glimmered through the Venetian blind of the window-entrance to Francine's sitting-room. Alban proposed to get admission to the house by that way. In her horror of again encountering Francine, Mrs.
It may be a humiliating confession to make, yet it is surely true that we are all accessible to flattery. Different tastes appreciate different methods of burning incense but the perfume is more or less agreeable to all varieties of noses. Francine's method had its tranquilizing effect on Emily. She answered indulgently, "Miss de Sor, I have nothing to do with it." "Nothing to do with it?
Having read what Mirabel had written to her, Emily looked up, and saw that Alban was on the point of following Cecilia into the conservatory. He had noticed something in Francine's face which he was at a loss to understand, but which made her presence in the room absolutely hateful to him. Emily followed and spoke to him. "I am going back to the rose garden," she said.
From Francine's drenched garments water was dripping upon the floor, and the pale face rested on Fanfar's shoulder. The Marquis hastened forward. "Who is this man? What is he doing here?" he cried. "Monsieur," said Fanfar, "a crime has been committed, the guilty must be punished, and this guilt is upon your son's head. You, gentlemen, seem to think that to your rank everything is permitted.
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