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Updated: June 14, 2025
"I cannot answer your inquiry." "You must answer it, madam!" He was imperative. "I demand the yes or no. Is it or is it not Paul Hendrickson?" "Your calmer reason, sir, will tell you to-morrow that I was right in refusing to give any man's name in this connection," replied Mrs. Denison. "I am pained to see you so much disturbed.
But thrown suddenly off her guard, she had betrayed this secret to unlawful eyes. Hendrickson had read it. And she too had read his heart. After the lapse of more than a year they had met; and without wrong on either side had acknowledged a mutual inextinguishable love. "You are not well, Mr. Hendrickson."
Speak your heart more freely." "Leon Dexter is rich. I am poor!" "You are richer than Leon Dexter in the eyes of a true woman richer a thousandfold, though he counted his wealth by millions." There were flashes of light in the eyes of Mrs. Denison. Hendrickson bent his glance to the floor and did not reply. "If Miss Loring prefers Dexter to you, let her move on in her way without a thought.
"Go by all means," said Mrs. Arden. Hendrickson bowed low, and, passing them, left the parlor almost hurriedly. "Dangerously ill! A brain fever!" he said aloud, as he gained his own apartment and shut the door behind him. He was deeply disturbed. That their unexpected meeting had something to do with this sudden sickness he now felt sure.
His purpose was to go in now, confront Jessie and Mr. Hendrickson, and act from that point onward as the nature of the case might suggest. He glanced at the parlor windows. There was no light there now. The visitor had departed. He felt relieved, yet disappointed. "Is Miss Loring at home?" he asked of the servant. "Yes, sir." And he entered.
A momentary relief was experienced at this departure; but soon mystery was suggested, and a mutual understanding between his wife and Hendrickson imagined. And so fuel was heaped on the fires of jealousy, which blazed up again as fiercely as ever. The seclusion of herself in her own room by Mrs.
But think calmly; and then ask yourself this question: Would you be willing to marry Jessie Loring while she holds her present views?" Hendrickson bent his head to think. "She believes," said Mrs. Denison, "that such a marriage would be adulterous. I put the matter before you in its plainest shape.
He turned to look into her eyes. They sustained his penetrating gaze only for a moment and then her long lashes lay upon her crimsoning cheeks. "Not if I show myself as stupid as I have been this morning," said the young man. "I have never thought you stupid, Mr. Hendrickson." "I am dull at times," he said, hesitating, and slightly confused.
Never!" and she struck her hands together wildly. Her voice had in it a wail of suffering that sent a thrill to the heart of Paul Hendrickson. Then recollecting herself, she struggled for the mastery over her feelings. He saw the struggle, and awaited the result. A brief interval sufficed to restore a degree of self-possession. "I have nothing then to hope?" said the young man.
What were you doing with yourself?" she remarked, trying to be more familiar, and giving him a look that set his pulses to a quicker measure. Before he could answer, Dexter said, gaily, yet with covert sarcasm. "Oh, Mr. Hendrickson prefers the society of elderly ladies. He spent the evening in sober confabulation with Mrs. Denison. I have no doubt she was edified.
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