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Updated: June 21, 2025
Removing this symbol of human pretense against the reality of things, Charles Turold bared the arm of the corpse, and pointing to it exclaimed "Could those marks have been made by Sisily?" In his examination of the marks thus revealed to him, Mr. Brimsdown had the strange feeling that their existence was, in some way, the justification of the dead man's summons to him.
I wanted to tell you so that day by the Moon Rock, but I knew that I must not." "Why not?" His louder voice broke in on her subdued tones impetuously. "You should not have sent me away, Sisily. That was wrong. It has brought much misery upon us both." "It was not wrong!" she replied, with unexpected firmness and a momentary hardness of glance, which reminded him of her father's look.
Her sex was a fatal bar to his regard. He had heaped so many reproaches on her mother for bringing another girl into the world that the poor woman had descended to the grave with a confused idea that she was to blame. Sisily had a strange nature, reticent, yet tender. She had loved her mother passionately, and feared and hated her father because he had treated his wife so harshly.
His son received this piece of news with a pale face. "You should have foreseen this last night," he said. "I saw Sisily in Penzance near the gardens." "Where was she going?" asked Charles, flushing slightly. "I really cannot say. You should be better acquainted with her movements than I," was the ironical response. "You do not suppose I have been altogether blind to your infatuation, do you?
The slim lines of her figure had the lissome development of a girl who spent her days out of doors. She stood there motionless, apparently lost in meditation, indifferent to the bitter wind which was driving across the moors with insistent force. "Put this on, Sisily." Sisily turned with a start.
He came down to breakfast to find his wife had already finished hers, and was dressed ready to go out. "Where is Sisily?" he asked, with, a glance at the girl's vacant place. "I've ordered her breakfast to be taken to her room, and sent word to her to rest in bed until I go to her," his wife replied. "I have a painful ordeal before me in breaking the news of Robert's death to her.
Charles Turold got up from his seat and took a turn round the room, then came back and stood looking down at her as she sat with her hand resting on the dark polished surface of the table. His first words seemed to convey some inward doubt of the adequacy of the motive for disappearance which her story revealed. "You should not have gone away like that, Sisily," he said soberly.
There was something so wan and melancholy in its appearance that his high anticipations rapidly faded. In the face of that reality he could no longer picture a silver-haired gracious old lady welcoming Sisily with tears in her eyes for the sake of her dead mother. The human qualities of warmth and tenderness did not accord with that chilling neglected exterior.
The dying woman seemed quite certain her old friend was still in Charleswood, although it was twenty years since she had heard from her. She had told Sisily that Mrs. Pursill's house was her own, and it had belonged to her parents before her. She had assumed that she was not likely to move.
Pendleton feel quite nervous, and unfeignedly relieved when Sisily had asked to be allowed to go to her room immediately the meal was concluded. As she sat at the table, reviewing the events of the afternoon, after the girl had taken her departure, Mrs. Pendleton regretted that she had consented to take charge of Sisily.
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