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Updated: June 26, 2025
A sort of partnership was formed between them, Mr. Linders undertaking most of the work, and the Englishman contributing his small fortune as capital; and not only his own, but that of his sister Magdalen, a young girl who had come abroad with her brother, the only near relation she had in the world.
"Madelon," said M. Linders, roused by the noise she had made in opening the shutters. A sudden throb of joy came over her as she heard his voice again, and she went swiftly and stood by his bedside. "Are you better, papa?" she said, putting her two little cool hands into one of his, hot with fever. "We are alone, are we not?" he answered, looking feebly around. "Come and sit up here by me.
"You must not take those, sir; Lady Adelaide will be going immediately." "Confound the cloaks, and Lady Adelaide too!" cried Graham, impatiently. "Here, give me something anything. Where is Miss Linders' shawl? Which are Mrs. Vavasour's things?"
"And will there be music, and lights, and flowers there, the same as here, papa?" "Oh! for that, it is much the same everywhere," replied M. Linders. "People are much alike all the world over, as you will find, Madelon. Priests, and mummery, and a gaping crowd, to stare and say, 'How wonderful! how beautiful! as you do now, ma petite; but you shall know better some day."
As a last resource, he wrote to her American and German friends at Florence, the most respectable apparently of M. Linders' many doubtful acquaintance, and indeed the only ones with whose address Madelon could furnish him. From the old German he received a prompt reply.
What was to become of this poor child, clinging so closely to her father, and so dependent upon him that she seemed to have no thoughts nor ideas apart from him? Graham had been questioning Madame Lavaux as to what she knew of M. Linders and his life, and had gained much information on some points, though very little on others.
"That is quite impossible, Monsieur," Graham answered with decision; "and if you agitate yourself in this way, I must refuse to listen to another word. You are doing all you can to lessen your chances of recovery." "You do not play, Monsieur?" said M. Linders, struck with a new idea, and not in the least attending to what Graham was saying.
Little beloved, but much revered, Thérèse Linders also had got that she had laboured for, and was now gone to prove the worth of it; that which she had valued most in her narrow world had been awarded her to the full much honour, but small affection; much glorification to her memory as to one of surpassing sanctity, few tears of tender or regretful recollection.
And then, seeing how little capable M. Linders seemed at that moment of judging wisely, he went on to urge the necessity of Madelon's being sent to her aunt as her natural guardian, representing the impossibility of leaving her without money or friends in the midst of strangers.
He stopped short in his uproarious entrance, suddenly sobered by the appearance of M. Linders, as he lay propped up with pillows, his white face and bandaged head, and eyes gleaming with fever and rage. "Papa is very ill," says Madelon. "Monsieur, do not stay to- night, I beg of you!" "What are you saying, Madelon?" cried her father; "I forbid you to say that again; bring me the cards.
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