Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 12, 2025
It was scarcely visible in the darkening twilight, except here and there where a light glimmered faintly. The course of the river was marked by a soft white mist, and above it all, in the clear evening sky, hung the crescent moon. The beauty of the scene before her reached Gwenda's heart, and helped to fill her cup of happiness.
It was not excitement nor dismay nor eagerness, nor even interest. It was a sort of illumination, the movement of some inner light, the shining passage of some idea. And in Gwenda's attitude, as it now presented itself to Mary, there was a curious still withdrawal and detachment. She seemed hardly to listen but to be preoccupied with her idea. "He thought it would be a good thing," she said.
And he hasn't turned up. And you can't think why. Isn't that so?" "I don't know what you mean, Papa." "I mean, my child, that you're living in a fool's paradise." "I haven't a notion what you mean by that." "Perhaps Gwenda can enlighten you." The color died in Ally's scared face. "I can't see," she said, "what Gwenda's got to do with it."
She kept it up on the stairs and at the door and at the garden gate. "Perhaps you'll come some night when Steven's here. You know he's always glad to see you." The sting of it was in Mary's watching eyes. For, when you came to think of it, there was nothing else she could very well have said. That year, when spring warmed into summer, Gwenda's strength went from her. She was always tired.
She thought, "So that's what she came for. Steven hasn't told her anything." "What put that idea into your head?" she asked. "Somebody told me so." "He has had an offer of Dr. Harker's practice in Leeds, and he'd some idea of taking it. He seemed to think it might be a good thing." There was a flicker in the whiteness of Gwenda's face. It arrested Mary.
She was shown into his study, where Rowcliffe was reading. Though the servant had prepared him for her, he showed signs of agitation. Gwenda's eyes were ominously somber and she had the white face of a ghost, a face that to Rowcliffe, as he looked at it, recalled the white face of Alice.
The pomegranate and lemon trees, the terraced fountain, where golden carp slithered and wriggled amid the roots of gorgeous-hued irises, the banked masses of exotic blooms, the pagoda-like enclosure, where Japanese sand-badgers disported themselves, all these contributed to take away Gwenda's appetite and moderate her desire to talk about gardening matters.
Only tell me that, Miss Vaughan, and I shall be satisfied; and yet not quite satisfied, for I crave your love, and can never be happy without it." There was no answer on Gwenda's lips, but the eyes, which were bent on her work, grew humid with feeling. "I love you, but dare I have the presumption to hope that you return my love?
"Yes," answered Will, adding a little under his breath, "one I shall never forget." There was something in the tone of his voice which caused a little flutter of consciousness under Gwenda's fur necklet. She made no answer, and, after a moment, changed the subject, though with no displeasure in her voice. "Do you see those prismatic colours in the spray?"
And she told him that Gwenda had got a secretaryship to Lady Frances Gilbey. It would have been too gross to have told him about Gwenda's salary. But it might have been the salary she was thinking of when she added that it was of course an awfully good thing for Gwenda. "And who," said Rowcliffe, "is Lady Frances Gilbey?" "She's a cousin of my stepmother's." He considered it.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking