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Updated: June 1, 2025
'No, thank you. Frau Lenore wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and began to cry with renewed energy. 'I know all, you see! All! 'All? that is to say? 'Everything that took place to-day! And the cause ... I know that too! You acted like an honourable man; but what an unfortunate combination of circumstances! Tears choked Frau Lenore's voice. Sanin did not know what to think.
"Lorimer allows he never saw her equal for grace and dignity." Allows! Fancy Frank allowing any perfection in his Lenore! Was it not possible that a little passing encomium on unusual beauty was being promoted and magnified by the mother into a serious attachment? But Lady Tyrrell was playing into her hands, and Lenore's ecclesiastical proclivities were throwing her into the arms of the family!
All about him, his tragic face, his sadness, his defeat, his struggle to hold on to his manliness and to keep his faith in nobler thoughts these challenged Lenore's compassion, her love, and her woman's combative spirit to save and to keep her own. She quivered again on the brink of betraying herself. And it was panic alone that held her back.
Lenore dispelled her dreamy state, and, hurriedly dressing, she went down to breakfast. Her father and Rose were still at the table. "Hello, big eyes!" was his greeting. And Rose, not to be outdone, chirped, "Hello, old sleepy-head!" Lenore's reply lacked her usual spontaneity. And she felt, if she did not explain, the wideness of her eyes. Her father did not look as if anything worried him.
The moment she questioned him she knew something extraordinary had taken place or was about to take place. She coaxed and entreated. For once Jake was hard to manage. But the more excuses he made, the more he evaded her, the greater became Lenore's need to know. And at last she wore the cowboy out. He could not resist her tears, which began to flow in spite of her.
"I love him and he loves me so so well that I've been madly happy in spite of of " "Is that all?" asked Anderson, dubiously. "Is not that enough?" "But Dorn's lovin' you so well doesn't say he'll not go to war." And it was then that forgotten bitterness returned to poison Lenore's cup of joy. "Ah!"... she whispered. "Good Lord!
"We'll mail the money to Olsen.... Lenore, write out a check to Andrew Olsen for fifteen thousand." Lenore's hand trembled as she did as her father directed. It was the most poorly written check she had ever drawn. Her heart seemed too big for her breast just then. How cool and calm her father was! Never had she loved him quite so well as then.
"Will you promise everything?" whispered Kathleen, solemnly. Evidently Lenore's promises were rare and reliable. "Yes. Cross my heart. There! And you must not tell." Kathleen was a precocious child, with all the potentialities of youth. She could not divine Lenore's motive, but she sensed a new and fascinating mode of conduct for herself. She seemed puzzled a little at Lenore's earnestness.
He's a nice lad, though he is his mother's son; and Lenore's heart is set on him, and I can't bear vexing the child." "Lena cares for him only because she met him before she knew what life is like. After one season she will understand what five hundred a year means."
The man called Glidden went down before that onslaught, and his gun went flying aside. Three of Glidden's group started for it. The cowboy Bill leaped forward, a gun in each hand. "Hyar!... Back!" he yelled. And then all except the two struggling principals grew rigid. Lenore's heart was burning in her throat. The movements of Dorn were too swift for her sight.
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