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Updated: May 31, 2025
Yes! there was a letter within its pages addressed to himself, now, now he should know all! He tore it open with feverish haste two folded sheets of paper fell out, one was his own epistle to Violet Vere, and this, to his consternation, he perceived first. Full of a sudden misgiving he laid it aside, and began to read Thelma's parting words. "My darling boy," she wrote
Lady Winsleigh said nothing and she listened to Thelma's words with a sort of contempt. "Is the girl half-witted?" she thought. "She must be, or she would not be so absurdly enthusiastic! The man plays well, but it is his profession to play well it's no good praising these sort of people, they are never grateful, and they always impose upon you." Aloud she asked Sir Philip
And confused by the general insincerity, she clung, poor child! to Lady Winsleigh, who had the tact to seem what she was not, and the cleverness to probe into Thelma's nature and find out how translucently clear and pure it was a perfect well of sweet water, into which one drop of poison, or better still, several drops, gradually and insidiously instilled, might in time taint its flavor and darken its brightness.
"With me!" exclaimed Philip. "Certainly! Thelma's soul is as open as daylight you shouldn't have had any secret from her, however trifling. She's not a woman 'on guard, she can't take life as the most of us do, in military fashion, with ears pricked for the approach of a spy, and prepared to expect betrayal from her most familiar friends.
The scandalous reports concerning Olaf Gueldmar were incorrect, he had evidently laid the remains of his wife in the shell-cavern, for some reason connected with his religious belief, and Thelma's visits to the sacred spot were now easy of comprehension.
It was Britta whose merry eyes sparkled with pride and admiration when she saw her "Froeken" arrayed in gleaming silk or sweeping velvets, with the shine of rare jewels in her rippling hair, it was Britta who took care of all the dainty trifles that gradually accumulated on Thelma's dressing table, in fact, Britta had become a very important personage in her own opinion.
And later on, when old Gueldmar slumbered soundly, and the golden mid-night sunshine lit up every nook and gable of the farmhouse with its lustrous glory, making Thelma's closed lattice sparkle like a carven jewel, a desolate figure lay prone on the grass beneath her window, with meagre pale face, and wide-open wild blue eyes upturned to the fiery brilliancy of the heavens.
I cannot my heart is too full!" The rest of their drive homeward was very quiet there are times when silence is more eloquent than speech. "A small cloud, so slight as to be a mere speck on the fair blue sky, was all the warning we received." After that evening great changes came into Thelma's before peaceful life.
"Coward! . . . coward!" and Thelma's rich low voice caused Pierre to almost leap forward from the place where he stood concealed. "You, you made me come here you sent me that card you dared to use the name of my betrothed husband, to gain your vile purpose! You have kept me locked in this room all these hours and do you think you will not be punished?
Thelma's delight in her new abode was unbounded the stately oaks that surrounded it, the rose-gardens, the conservatories, the grand rooms, with their fine tapestries, oak furniture, and rare pictures, the splendid library, the long, lofty drawing-rooms, furnished and decorated after the style of Louis Quinze, all filled her with a tender pride and wistful admiration.
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