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Updated: May 17, 2025
As he looked at her, standing there by his side, Vanderlyn realised how instinctively tender, how passionately protective, was his love for her; and again there came over him the doubt, the questioning, as to why she was doing this.... "Messieurs, mesdames, en voiture, s'il vous plaît! En voiture, s'il vous plaît!"
Although Madame de Léra did not understand a word he said, Pargeter's attitude was eloquent of how he had taken the astounding news, and she looked at him with angry perplexity and pain. She said something in a low voice to Vanderlyn; as a result he walked up to Pargeter and touched him on the shoulder. "Tom," he said, "I'm afraid something ought to be done, and done quickly.
He put away the thought, the anguished query, as to how long this awful ordeal was likely to endure. For the moment it was everything to be alone. He closed his smarting eyes. Suddenly the telephone bell rang, violently. Vanderlyn got up slowly; stumblingly he walked across the room and took up the receiver. A woman's voice asked in French: "Has Mr. Pargeter left Paris?"
He added, with a rather twisted grin, "If every lady whose husband lives to enjoy himself were to commit suicide, there would be very few women left in our Paris world." "I agree with you, Monsieur le Préfet, in thinking Mrs. Pargeter was the last woman in the world to commit suicide," said Vanderlyn brusquely, and then he got up.
Though this relieves me from the great anxiety under which I laboured, still there are many details of your passage, your arrival, &c., on which nothing but your letter can satisfy me. For some unknown reason, the mail is now eighteen days on the road. Vanderlyn has finished your picture in the most beautiful style imaginable.
Madame d'Elphis walked across to an un-curtained window; she opened it and stepped through on to a broad terrace balcony. "Walk down the iron stairway," she said, in a low voice, "there are not many steps. A little door leads from the garden below straight into the street; the door has been left unlocked to-night." Vanderlyn held out his hand; she took it and held it for a moment.
Her brother and that cousin of hers are sure to want to go. They can take Plimmer. The truth is well, old man, I don't feel up to it! I've always had an awful horror of death. Peggy knew that well enough " the colour faded from his face; he looked at the other with a nervous, dejected expression. "Tom," said Vanderlyn, slowly, "why shouldn't I go to Orange with Madame de Léra?
There, half way down was Tom Pargeter's splendid villa; as they passed it in a flash, Vanderlyn averted his head. To his morbid fancy it suddenly assumed the aspect of a great marble tomb. The car swung on through the now deserted Bois; soon it was rushing up the steep countrified streets of St.
"Yes!" she exclaimed, eagerly turning to Pargeter, "how can it be otherwise, Monsieur?" She hesitated, looked at Vanderlyn, then quickly withdrew her eyes from his face. His eyes were full of agony. She felt as if she had peered through a secret window of another's soul.
It was the most momentous period of the year: the height of the "dress makers' season." Mrs. Vanderlyn had run across Susy Lansing at one of the Rue de la Paix openings, where rows of ladies wan with heat and emotion sat for hours in rapt attention while spectral apparitions in incredible raiment tottered endlessly past them on aching feet.
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