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"You scrutinize that will as if you were a legal flaw-finder, Miss Monfort, instead of a very confiding young lady of poetical proclivities." "It is very short!" I said, sententiously, comparing at the same time the handwriting with that of Mr.
Life is uncertain, and, young and strong as you are, or seem to be, you cannot foresee one hour even of the future, or of your own existence. Suppose Miriam Monfort neither comes in person nor sends her order for its restoration what, then, is to become of this treasure-chest of hers?"
From that day forth John of Monfort remained in point of fact Duke of Brittany, and Joan of Penthievre, the Cripple, the proud princess who had so obstinately defended her rights against him, survived for full twenty years the death of her husband and the loss of her duchy.
Constance Monfort, and on hearing, to his surprise and grief, apparently, that she was dead, had gone away again without requesting an interview with any other member of the family. Monfort, once Constance Glen now, as you tell me, no more. What children did she leave?" "One only a daughter," was Evelyn's reply.
"Miriam related her adventure, but was sorely puzzled to know to whom she was indebted for such chivalrous aid." "I am glad to have been of service to Miss Monfort," he rejoined, deferentially, "but I merely obeyed an impulse strong with me. I should have been wanting to myself to have done otherwise than defend a helpless woman."
All this I saw in my mental survey with pity, with concern, with wild desire to fly to him, and whisper truth and consolation in his arms; for I loved this man as it is given to passionate, earnest natures to love but once, be it early or late; loved him as Eve loved Adam, when the whole inhabited earth was given to those two alone. "You seem in very good spirits to-day, Miss Monfort," said Mrs.
We only were alone the dreary little widow, whose name I never knew, and Miriam Monfort; and on natural principles we clung together. It is true that Miss Lamarque, by many signs, implored me to come to her, but I would not.
"To be more than half a hundred years old! It is so many years to live; and then to be such a sinner, too how hard it must be! I always thought you were very good before; and I am sure you are not gray and wrinkled and blear-eyed, like Granny Simpson!" "Granny Simpson, indeed! You must be crazy, Miriam Monfort! Why, she is eighty if she is an hour, and hobbles on a cane!
I was lying, one evening, on a deep velvet couch in the library, now rarely used except for business purposes for, again, fires and lights sparkled, in their respective seasons, in the several receiving-rooms of Monfort Hall, maintained by Evelyn's bounty when, overpowered by the influence of the hour, and the weariness of my own unprofitable thoughts, and perhaps the dreary play of Racine's that I was reading, I dropped asleep.
The attentive house-maid disrobed me, and bathed my chilled and frosted feet and swollen hands in water tempered with alcohol. Then arraying me in a mob-cap and snowy cotton gown, the property of good Mrs. Jessup, placed me in the soft nest prepared for sojourners beneath that homely but hospitable roof. "I hope thee is comfortable, Miriam Monfort," said Mrs. Jessup, after I was ensconced in bed.
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