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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Hard! Well, now, I should think it easy. Mr. Linmere is all that any reasonable woman could wish. Not too old, nor yet too young; about forty-five, which is just the age for a man to marry; good-looking, intelligent and wealthy what more could you ask?" "You forgot that I do not love him that he does not love me." "Love! tush! Don't let me hear anything about that. I loath the name.
Harrison had been an eccentric man; and from the fact that in many points of religious belief he and Mr. Linmere had been abroad several years, and had led a very reckless, dissipated life.
"He is found! My master is found!" said Pietro, solemnly, removing his cap, and wiping a tear from his eye. For the man was attached to Mr. Paul Linmere, in his rough way, and the tear was one of genuine sorrow. His companions looked at each other. Alexandrine grasped the arm of Margie, and leaned heavily upon her. "Let us go to the house " she faltered, "I cannot bear it."
Alexandrine returned the glove to her bosom, and then continued: "The handkerchief found near Mr. Linmere was marked with the single letter A. Whose name begins with that letter?" "Stop, I implore you! I shall lose my reason! I am blinded I cannot see! O, if I could only die and leave it all!" "You will not die.
She was stunned by the suddenness of the blow, and she could not help being painfully conscious that she felt relieved by the death of this unfortunate man. God had taken her case into his hands in a manner too solemnly fearful for her to question. Three months after the death of Paul Linmere, Margie met Archer Trevlyn at the house of Alexandrine Lee. He was quite a constant visitor there, Mrs.
I left France with no feeling of regret, save for Leo, my faithful hound. I have shed many bitter tears, when pondering over the probable fate of my poor dog." "Be easy on that subject, Arabel. I saw the hound but a few weeks ago. He is the property of a lady who loves him the woman Paul Linmere was to have married, if he had lived." "I am glad.
I would do anything to make his life safer." "Very well. You understand me fully? You are never to reveal anything I may tell you to-night, unless I give you leave. You swear it?" "I swear it." "Listen, then. You remember the night Mr. Linmere was murdered?" Margie grew pale as death, and clasped her hands convulsively. "Yes, I remember it."
He met Margie with empressement, and bowed his tall head to kiss the white hand she extended to him. She drew it away coldly something about the man made her shrink from him. "I am so happy to meet you again. Margie, and after ten years of separation! I have thought so much and so often of you." "Thank you, Mr. Linmere."
"It must be terrible to fall by the hand of an assassin!" said Mrs. Weldon, with a shudder. "Good heavens! what a dreadful thing it would be if Mr. Linmere has been murdered!" "An assassin! My God!" cried Margie, a terrible thought stealing across her mind. Who had touched her in the cypress grove? What hand had woke in her a thrill that changed her from ice to fire!
He has lived single all these years waiting for you. He will be kind to you, and you will be happy. Prepare to receive him with becoming respect." Mr. Trevlyn considered his duty performed, and went out for his customary walk. At dinner Mr. Linmere arrived. Margie met him with cold composure.
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