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Updated: May 17, 2025
Your old father he will understand and will forgive will forgive anything in all this world no matter what. Remember that. Remember that, and tell me, Anna, what is there for Mrs. Vanderlyn to pardon?" She did not lift her head. Her eyes flashed up at him in one quick look of terror, but never by an inch did she raise toward her father's, now, her pale, affrighted face.
As she came forward, clad in the austere dress of a French widow, he noted the expression of constraint, of surprise, on her worn face. "Mr. Vanderlyn?" she said, interrogatively; and, as she waited for an explanation of the American's presence, surprise gave way to a look of great sternness and severity, almost of dislike.
With his tenure of that place uncertain, not sure that he could find another, he felt that he would have no right to interpose too serious objections to the highly flattering arrangement Mrs. Vanderlyn proposed. His worry about Vanderlyn subsided, somewhat, when he found the young man was away from town much of the time.
Pargeter was alive, and that he, Vanderlyn, knew her whereabouts; it was not for Peggy dead, but for Peggy living, that they were still searching so eagerly.
I have something which I wish to say." Hurriedly the girl came in, looking at him wonderingly. Never in her life had she heard such a tone from her father's lips before. "Anna, you love this man Herr Vanderlyn?" "Yes, father; I I love him. Yes." "You love him very, very much?" His voice, now, softened somewhat. "More than I could ever tell you, father."
Pargeter said no word that all the world might not have heard, yet, underlying all she said, his questions and her answers, was the mute interrogation which of the alternatives discussed held out the best chance, to Vanderlyn and herself, of being together? At last, quite suddenly, Mrs.
A sudden reluctance prevented her asking the advice of friends like Ellie Vanderlyn, whom she knew to be in the thick of the same negotiations, and all she could think of was to consult a young American lawyer practicing in Paris, with whom she felt she could talk the more easily because he was not from New York, and probably unacquainted with her history.
At last, finding himself opposite the Hotel Continental, Vanderlyn stopped and deliberately read over the bill of fare attached to the door of the restaurant.
He picked the box up, and was about to hasten after Mrs. Vanderlyn it was so like her to shed jewels on her path! when he noticed his own initials on the cover. He dropped the box as if it had been a hot coal, and sat for a long while gazing at the gold N. L., which seemed to have burnt itself into his flesh. At last he roused himself and stood up.
As he made his way over the dimly-lighted, ill-paved court which separated the new building, that giving onto the street, from the seventeenth-century mansion, Vanderlyn realised that his first impression had been quite erroneous. Madame d'Elphis had evidently gauged, and that very closely, the effect she desired to produce on her patrons.
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