Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 16, 2025
"Guiltless Archer guiltless!" she cried, her face wearing the pitiful, strained look of agonized suspense. "I do not quite comprehend. Say it again oh, say it again!" "Margaret, Archer Trevlyn never lifted a hand against Paul Linmere never! He is innocent before God and the angels!"
Do you, also, defy any woman? Tell me, if you can, whose glove this is?" And she pulled from her bosom the blood-stained glove, and held it up before him. He looked at it, flushed crimson, and trembled perceptibly. She laughed scornfully. "Archer Trevlyn, your guilt is known to me! It has been known to me ever since the fatal night on which Paul Linmere met his death.
She despised Linmere with her whole soul, she dreaded him inexpressibly, yet she scarcely gave her approaching marriage with him a single thought. She wondered that she did not; when she thought of it all, she was shocked to find herself so impassive. Her party had been a week at Cape May, when Archer Trevlyn came down, with the wife of his employer, Mr. Belgrade.
Margie's cheek lost a trifle of its peachy bloom. She toyed with her spoon, but did not reply to his remark. "Did you understand me, child? Mr. Linmere has returned." "Yes sir." "And is coming here to-night. Remember to take extra pains with yourself, Margie, for he has seen all the European beauties, and I do not want my little American flower to be cast in the shade. Will you remember it?"
Linmere offered Margie his hand to lead her in, but she declined. He kept close beside her, and when they stood waist deep in the water, and a huge breaker was approaching, he put his arm around her shoulders. With an impatient gesture she tore herself away. He made an effort to retain her, and in the struggle Margie lost her footing, and the receding wave bore her out to sea.
She wore a pink muslin wrapper, tied with white ribbons, and in her hair drooped a cluster of apple-blossoms. "Margie dear," said Mr. Trevlyn, pausing in his work of buttering a muffin, "I want you to look your prettiest to-night. I am going to bring home a friend of mine one who was also your father's friend Mr. Linmere. He arrived from Europe to-day."
I am not feeling quite well, and may have need of you before morning." The man looked surprised, but made no comment. He brought the stimulant, his master drank it off, and then threw himself, dressed as he was, on the bed. Upper Tendom was ringing with the approaching nuptials of Miss Harrison and Mr. Linmere.
Before morning my child was born; but it never opened its eyes on this world. Death took it away. I had some articles of jewelry on my person, of some considerable value, and with these I bribed the persons who had taken me from the river to cause Mr. Linmere to believe that I had died.
Perhaps the quiet room too forcibly reminded him of the woman he had loved and lost. Alexandrine's ambition was satisfied. At last, she was the wife of the man whose love and admiration she had coveted since her first acquaintance with him. From her heart she believed him guilty of the murder of Paul Linmere; but in spite of it, she had married him.
Archer Trevlyn, you took the life of Paul Linmere, and thus removed the last obstacle that stood between you and Margaret Harrison!" Trevlyn's face had grown white as death while she had been speaking, but it was more like the white heat of passion, than like the pallor of detected guilt. His rigid lips were stern and pale; his dark eyes fairly shot lightnings.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking