Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 1, 2025
He had entered unobserved in company with a friend and a few minutes later a gentleman bearing some legal looking documents entered and without ceremony was ushered in. It was while the latter was taking leave that the well-known tones of Marguerite Verne's voice rang out its silvery sweetness and caused the listener to start. But it matters not who the latter was suffice, a man
Little about the Nautilus that held all readers entranced throughout his story is lacking in the submarines of to-day except indeed its extreme comfort, even luxury. With those qualities our submarine navigators have to dispense. But the electric light, as we know it, was unknown in Verne's time yet he installed it in the boat of his fancy.
A pallid, black-haired woman with pendent earrings a woman who rather resembled Anna Zanidov was playing a sea-piece by MacDowell in the light of a tall lamp. The hall door swung open; the unsympathetic face and square shoulders of David Verne's attendant appeared above the back of the wheel chair.
Poor little Madge; she is a good child. If she were only settled I would feel more relief; but she is to be bartered for pelf, poor child. I will stand by her to the last." Voices in the parlor now claimed Mr. Verne's attention. "Strange too, at the very moment," murmured the latter as he closed the folios and then ran his fingers through his hair as if to prepare for some pleasing reception.
"And what matters that to me," thought Marguerite, though she expressed it not She was puzzled to know what had wrought such a change in her mother, as the latter talked of dear Eve and Mr. Tracy in one breath and seemed enthusiastic over each particular. In order to explain the cause of Mrs. Verne's altered manner we would have to repeat a conversation which a few hours earlier took place in Mrs.
Poor Hubert! some day I may feel even more sympathy than I do now;" and Hubert Tracy in miniature was consigned to its solitary resting place. Marguerite Verne's words were prophetic indeed. She had remained some moments in utter abstraction when Cousin Jennie hastily entered telling her that Mr. Lawson had just left and that her father wished to see her. "What an early call for Mr.
Verne you do not surely think that a man of sense can be blind to the inestimable and rare qualities which he sees in Miss Verne's character. If we had more woman like her what a different world it would be!" "God bless you, my boy," said Mr. Verne fervently. "Amen," responded a voice from another apartment but unheard in the parlor.
Spriggins sat for some moments and then informing the solicitor that he had some business at the insurance office rose to take leave. "I suppose you have heard of Mr. Verne's illness?" ventured Mr. Lawson. "Yes, sir, Melindy and meself was a-talkin' the hull thing over last night. He is a fine gentleman, sir, and the young lady I'm so glad she's back again. Ah! she's a fine girl, sir.
But there was another who tendered congratulations while a deeper shadow settled down and shut out any approach of joy or gladness. Marguerite Verne could not fail to see the difference in her mother's reception of Phillip Lawson as he now is, and this thought gave her pain. The possessor of forty thousand, and a poor penniless lawyer, were indeed two different beings in Mrs. Verne's partial eyes.
Phillip, God's ways are wonderful. Let us thank Him that the barriers are broken down that ere long you may possess the rarest treasure that this earth can give." Mr. Verne's voice sank into a deep whisper as he uttered the solemn invocation: "And now may the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, rest upon thee forever my son."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking