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His usual air of calm ill-humour had deserted him and, as Lord Almont laconically remarked, "Poor old Cassis is flapping in the wind." "Can't understand their motive," he repeated over and over again. "If they believe they've got Barraclough tucked safely away, what can they gain by this stock juggling?" "They are laying a false scent presumably," said Mr. Torrington.
Almont left Boston soon after I returned to my parents. We heard nothing of him for some time; but we lately heard from a reliable source that he was residing in Littleton, in New Hampshire, and also of his approaching marriage. Nothing but a sense of duty would have induced me to make this communication to you.
Cassis rapped out the question like a pistol shot, but before there was time to answer Cranbourne burst into the room, his face aglow with excitement. "I've done it," he said. "It's all right terrific." Lord Almont sprang to his feet. "You don't mean?" "Yes, I do." "The real Mackay?" "Alike as two postage stamps." "Where've you got him?" "Here, in your bathroom changing." "Changing?" "Of course.
Those who knew my sorrows respected them, and the name of George Almont ceased to be mentioned among our acquaintances. But it was something which I could never cease to remember. I had loved George Almont as one of my nature can love but once in her life, and, when I learned that I had been deceived in regard to his true character, the knowledge was very bitter to me.
When he began to treat me with indifference and neglect, for a long time I bore it in silence; but I was at length forced to acquaint my parents of the matter. My father soon took measures to ascertain what manner of life he had led while pursuing his studies in New York; and the information he gained was very discreditable to Mr. Almont.
In silence they went about their accustomed tasks. Abbie, tired with a new weariness, sat in her chair beside the marble-topped table. The village was talking about her; she knew it; she felt it all around her. Well, let them talk! But one day Almont sent a committee to her. It was composed of one man and three women.
"Perhaps, Clara," continued Miss Simmonds, "you may, in your walks through what is now called 'The Old Burial-ground, a short distance from the village, have observed a lonely grave, marked by a plain marble headstone, and shaded by the branches of an aged tree; you may have noticed this grave, and never given a thought to the poor mortal who sleeps there. That is the grave of George Almont.
I felt no interest in life, but I endeavored, when in the presence of my parents, to assume a cheerfulness which was far from being the real state of my mind. "To a few and tried friends only did we make known the real truth of the circumstances attending the departure of Mr. Almont from Littleton. Time passed on.
Abbie waited until Jim East drove away in his delivery cart. Then she sat down at the table in the parlor and opened the album. She found her name on one of the labels ABBIE SNOVER, ALMONT, MICHIGAN, U. S. A. It seemed queer to her that her name had come all the way from China. On the card that said that the plant was a dwarf orange-tree she found the name Thomas J. Thorington. Thomas? Tom?
White rose I am worthy of you. Dog rose Hope." "Hope," repeated Mr. Torrington. Lord Almont struck the table and sprang to his feet. "By God!" he cried. "Barraclough's going to win through." In the midst of a babel of tongues the telephone rang imperatively. Mr. Torrington picked up the receiver. "Yes, yes," he said. "Who? You are speaking for Mr. Van Diest."
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