United States or Denmark ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
She had even decided to which dressmaker she would go for her chinchilla cloak-for she meant to have one, and down to her feet, and softer and more voluminous and more extravagantly sumptuous than Violet's or Ursula's... not to speak of silver foxes and sables... nor yet of the Altringham jewels. She knew all this by heart; had always known it.
But into Violet's room she would not go more than she could help. She hated Violet's room; she loathed it; and she dared not think why. One Saturday evening in the last week of September Ransome had come home late after a long solitary ride in the country. Violet, who was busy making a silk blouse for herself, had refused to go with him.
Theodora did not come near the group, nor seem to perceive Violet's entreating glances; and when the Eastern prince departed, Percy had also disappeared. Violet was gratified by the ladies around her descanting on his book and his Syriac, and wished Theodora could hear them. At that moment she found Theodora close to her, presenting Lord St. Erme to Mrs. Arthur Martindale!
Now good-night, and try to sleep well," he returned kindly, and then went softly out from her presence, but looking grave and troubled. "Oh, if my mother were only alive!" burst passionately from Violet's lips, as the door closed after her betrothed. "My heart is broken, and there is no one in the wide, wide world to whom I can tell my trouble.
She is a woman of means. I have never heard of its being withdrawn." "Then it never has been," was Violet's emphatic conclusion, her dimples enforcing the statement as only such dimples can. "But what do you want of me in an affair of this kind? Something more than to help you locate the one possible clue to further enlightenment. You would not have mentioned the big reward just for that."
'Thank you, but no, it is of no use. No railroad within forty miles of the place. She could not be here till till and then I could not see her. He was pacing the room, and entangled his foot in Violet's little work-table, and it fell.
"That will be the very best thing." Aunt Martha broke in here. She had been sitting quietly at the other side of the table, as usual, apparently engrossed with her knitting. "You do not mean to send Violet to Italy, and to take care of Ernest?" she exclaimed. "What are you thinking of? I would never consent to Violet's going alone; it would not be proper." Violet grew crimson at the reproof.
So that before Sunday evening she found herself partaking in the large-hearted tolerance and optimism of Violet's parents, and forcing her view upon Uncle and Aunt Randall. Only Mr. Ransome held out. He refused to be worked upon by argument.
He was very very weary, his head nodded many times, and more than once he was afraid that sleep would overcome him, especially as he dared not stir or change his position; but the thought of Violet's danger, and the blaze of the lightning mingled with the yell of the wind kept him watchful, and he spent the interminable moments in thinking how to act when the attack came.
But it was only when, in the act of undressing, he was reminded of Violet's letter by its bulging in his breast pocket, that he glimpsed the danger they had escaped. Now, that inner sanity, that secret wisdom which had made him preserve Violet's letter as a possibly valuable document, suggested that if Winny had stayed all night in the house with him that document would have lost its value.
Word Of The Day