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Updated: May 20, 2025
Rachael's not being sorry to part with me. "Confound Mrs. Rachael!" said the gentleman. "Let her fly away in a high wind on a broomstick!" I began to be really afraid of him now and looked at him with the greatest astonishment. But I thought that he had pleasant eyes, although he kept on muttering to himself in an angry manner and calling Mrs. Rachael names.
In the last soft, brilliant light of the afternoon long shadows fell from the great trees nearby. Rachael's green and white gown was dappled with blots of golden light, her troubled, glowing eyes were of an almost unearthly beauty, and her slender figure, against the background of colonial white paint and red brick, had all the tremulous, reedy grace of a young girl's figure.
She told Rachael that she was "crazy" about Kent Parmalee, and Rachael's feeling of amazement that Magsie Clay could aspire to a Parmalee was softened by an odd sensation of relief at hearing Magsie's plans a relief she did not analyze. "I believe I am sick!" Rachael agreed. "I shall be glad to get down to the shore next week." She told Warren of Magsie's admission that night. "Kent!
Dismissing him from her councils, Rachael thought of Florence Haviland, the good and kind-hearted and capable matron who was Clarence's sister and only near relative. She and Florence had always been good friends, had often discussed Clarence of late. What sort of advice would Florence's forty-five years be apt to give to Rachael's twenty-eight?
There was little malice in her pleasure at getting this glimpse behind the scenes in Rachael's life; she would repeat her friend's confidence, later, with the calm of a person doing the accepted and expected thing, with the complacence of one who proves her right to other revelations from her listeners in turn.
For if I had challenged him by so much as an overt glance he would have burst bonds. Rachael's eyes, the older woman's eyes, the eyes of all, men and women, curious, admonitory, hostile and apprehensive, hot and cold together these I felt also amidst the dusk. I was distinctly unwelcome. The other men were waiting en route. "Didn't kill ye, did he?" "No."
I could have done so much, so much in this great world of yours, but that old woman would not let me. It is cruel! it is cruel! You would have loved me now as you did at first, but for her." Lord Hope took Rachael's hand in his. "Ah, Rachael!" he said, "if you could but understand the love which can neither be cherished nor cast away, which pervades a whole life, only to disturb it!
The old house, for all its purring furnace and double windows, was draughty enough to admit icy little fingers of the outside air, here and there, and the village, getting under storm shutters and closing up this wing or that room for the winter, was so businesslike in its preparations as to fill Rachael's heart with mild misgivings.
And no one but a woman would have rushed him up here in the rain." Rachael's eyes were streaming. She could not speak. She clung to her husband's hand for a moment or two of silence. "And now, I want to speak to you," Warren said, ending it. "I have nothing to say in excuse. I know I shall know all my life, what I have done. It is like a bad dream." His uncertain voice stopped.
Tell any one you see, and every one what has happened. Think of Stephen, think of Stephen! She knew by Rachael's face that she might trust her now.
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