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Updated: June 17, 2025
Dismissing the other school-fellows who were gathering round, and shooting a triumphant glance at Ada Irvine's haughty face, she half dragged her amused but by no means unwilling companion to the sacred spot; and when both were comfortably perched on the window niche, she began eagerly, "Won't you tell me your name and where you live? I am called Winnifred Mary Blake.
But at this very juncture Providence, which always watches over the innocent and defenceless, was keeping its eye direct upon Winnifred. At that very moment when our heroine sank fainting upon the doorstep, a handsome equipage, drawn by two superb black steeds, happened to pass along the street.
"Girls, girls, I've news for you!" cried Winnifred Blake, entering the school-room and surveying the faces of her school-mates with great eagerness. Luncheon hour was almost over, and the pupils belonging to Mrs.
"Yes," she muttered in a low, hushed voice, "I shall have my revenge, though I cannot as yet see the way clearly before me. I hardly know towards which I bear the greater hatred, but anyhow both will suffer Winnifred Blake for her malicious triumph and delight; Nellie Latimer for her upsetting behaviour and quiet contempt. Oh, how I detest them both!" and the girl's eyes gleamed angrily.
"Miss Winnifred," said the Old Lawyer, looking keenly over and through his shaggy eyebrows at the fair young creature seated before him, "you are this morning twenty-one." Winnifred Clair raised her deep mourning veil, lowered her eyes and folded her hands. "This morning," continued Mr. Bonehead, "my guardianship is at an end."
In another instant the six noblemen had leaped into the coach and disappeared down the street. Winnifred, still half inanimate with fright, turned to her rescuer, and saw before her the form and lineaments of the Unknown Stranger, who had thus twice stood between her and disaster. Half fainting, she fell swooning into his arms. "Dear lady," he exclaimed, "rouse yourself. You are safe.
It was, therefore, in an indignant tone that he answered: "Aunt Winnifred, it is not kind in you to come up here and make me lose my time and temper, while you sit there coolly and talk in infernal parables!" "Infernal parables!" cried the lady, in a tone of surprise and horror. "Oh, Arthur, Arthur! that comes of not going to church. Infernal parables! My soul and body, what an awful idea!"
A few scholars still remained absent, reluctant perhaps to come back to hard work after three weeks' ease and gaiety; and amongst the list of truants was the name of Winnifred Blake, whose blithe little face had been like a ray of sunlight in the dingy school-room. "Confined to the house through indisposition," Mrs. Elder explained to each anxious inquirer after the tiny favourite.
A few moments later, a coach, with the blinds drawn, in which were six noblemen armed to the teeth, might have been seen, were it not for the darkness, approaching the humble lodging in which Winnifred Clair was sheltered. But what it did when it got there, we must leave to another chapter. The hour was twenty minutes to ten on the evening described in our last chapter.
Aunt Winnifred, who sometimes came into her nephew's studio, saw the study one day, and exclaimed, sorrowfully, "Oh, Arthur! Arthur!" The young man, who was busily mixing colors upon his pallet, and humming, as he smoked, "'Tis my delight of a shiny night," turned in dismay, thinking his aunt was suddenly ill. "My dear aunt!" and he laid down his pallet and ran toward her.
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