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Updated: June 21, 2025
"What's the good of writing?" "A lie or two isn't much, when you've done all this for her. Come up to my place. You can write to her there." This was the letter that Paula wrote in Vernon's studio, among the half-empty cups and the scattered plates with cake-crumbs on them. "My Dear Little Betty: "I must leave without saying good-bye, and I shall never see you again. My father has taken me back.
Oh God! why did I ever leave him?" The boys drew round in a frightened circle, and lifted Vernon's corpse into the boat; and then, while Eric still supported the body, and moaned, and called to him in anguish, and chafed his cold pale brow and white hands, and kept saying that he had fainted and was not dead, the others rowed home with all speed, while a feeling of terrified anxiety lay like frost upon their hearts.
North was far too agitated to take heed. "This will kill your Cousin Irene !" "I expect it would," she interposed soberly. "But she will never know it, Mr. North. What I tell you now must never go beyond this room." Forthwith, Willa related the whole story just as it had fallen from Vernon's unhappy lips, and the attorney listened in consternation.
You will see me get tired." "Very good. I hope I shall not weary you." "I can tell by to-morrow, and if I do look tired you will go, won't you?" "Certainly; and for fear I may weary you now, I will retire, if you will promise to go too." She yielded willingly to Miss Vernon's wish, and was led to her room, where the sensitive, pure being was soon at rest.
I give you one warning. If you shut your eyes . . ." "Of course," she flew from him, "big mountains must be satisfied with my admiration at their feet." "That will do for a beginning." "They speak encouragingly." "One of them." Vernon's breast heaved high. "To be at your feet makes a mountain of you?" said she. "With the heart of a mouse if that satisfies me!"
Were it not that strong talents will often go farthest when they seem to have least assistance, it would be almost incredible to tell the rapidity of Miss Vernon's progress in knowledge; and it was still more extraordinary, when her stock of mental acquisitions from books was compared with her total ignorance of actual life.
These steps the Mungana motioned him to mount, but when Jeekie tried to follow him he turned and struck him contemptuously in the face. At once the Asika, who was watching Vernon's approach through the eye-holes in the Little Bonsa mask, said fiercely: "Who bade you strike the servant of my guest, O Mungana? Let him come also that he may stand behind us and interpret."
She had decidedly meant not to step in, for she had no wish to encounter Mrs Clayton Vernon; indeed, the reverse. But she immediately perceived that in asking to speak to a guest at the door she had socially erred. At Mrs Clayton Vernon's refined people did not speak to refined people at the door. So she stepped in, and the door was closed, prisoning her and her potatoes in the imposing hall.
I remarked this over and over to myself; but I found that my mind still settled back in my original conviction, that one single individual, of the masculine sex, and in all probability young and handsome, was at the bottom of Miss Vernon's conduct; and it was with a burning desire of discovering, or rather of detecting, such a rival, that I stationed myself in the garden to watch the moment when the lights should appear in the library windows.
"I will not quarrel with you," he returned; "but in plain words, I do not like the tone in which you speak of her. It hurts me, and I do not believe you would wilfully give me pain." "Indeed, I would not," I answered seriously. "Mistress Vernon's conduct toward me," John continued, "has been gracious. There has been no immodesty nor boldness in it."
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