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Updated: June 14, 2025
"I have seen nothing that would rob him of the title," said Miss Loring. "A true gentleman will put on a gentlemanly exterior; for he is courteous by instinct and especially when ladies are present. A true gentleman, moreover, is always at his ease. Self-possession is one of the signs of a well bred man. Hendrickson is not well bred.
Dexter revealed the existence of sentiments on both sides that gave the whole subject a new aspect. A very difficult problem now presented itself to the mind of Mr. Hendrickson, involving questions of duty, questions of honor, and questions of feeling. It is not surprising that Miss Arden found a change in her travelling companion, nor that her visit to Niagara proved altogether unsatisfactory.
I will keep myself pure that I may remain worthy of her." On the evening of the next day Hendrickson arrived at Newport. Almost the first man he encountered was Dexter. "How is Mrs. Dexter?" he asked, forgetting in his anxiety and suspense the relation he bore to this man. His eager inquiry met a cold response accompanied by a scowl. "I am not aware that you have any particular interest in Mrs.
Notwithstanding the disturbed interview with his wife on the previous evening, he had kept his eyes on her, and noticed her meeting with Hendrickson in the parlor. Her warning, however, had proved effectual in preventing his intrusion upon them.
He did not rise, but sat looking up into her pale suffering face, with the light of hope, which for a moment had flushed his own, fast decaying. "You should not have said this, Mr. Hendrickson!" she repeated, in a steadier voice. "It is too late, and only makes my task the harder my burden heavier.
She is not as we saw Miss Loring just now, but more like the maiden you describe as treating you not long ago with a strange reserve, which you imagined coldness." "Woman is an enigma," exclaimed Hendrickson, his thoughts thrown into confusion. "And you must study, if you would comprehend her," said Mrs. Denison.
The billows have fallen to the level plain under the pressure of this sudden storm. You have told me it was too late. You have said, 'leave me! I believe you, and I will go. But, may I ask one question?" "Speak, Mr. Hendrickson; but beware how you speak." "Had I spoken as now this morning, would you have answered: 'Too late?" He was looking intently upon her face.
She felt an impending sense of danger, but lacked the resolution to flee. "Miss Loring," said Hendrickson, his unsteady voice betraying his inward agitation, "when I last saw you" "Sir!" There was a sudden sternness in the young girl's voice, and a glance of warning in her eye. But the visitor was not to be driven from his purpose. "It is not too late, Jessie Loring!" He spoke with eagerness.
The voice of Miss Loring betrayed far more of inward disturbance than she wished to appear. Their hands met. They looked into each other's eyes then stood for some moments in mutual embarrassment. "You are almost a stranger," said Jessie, conscious that any remark was better, under the circumstances, than silence. "Am I?" Hendrickson still held her hand, and still gazed into her eyes.
"How long will you remain?" she asked, speaking to Mr. Hendrickson. "Several days." "Ah! I am pleased to hear you say so. I left some very pleasant friends at Saratoga, but yours is the only familiar face I have yet seen here." "I saw Mr. and Mrs. Florence just now," said Mr. Dexter. "Did you?" "Yes. There they are, at the lower end of the parlor. Do you see them?" Mrs.
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