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Updated: October 14, 2024
Judge Ostrander lost something of his strained look, and it was no longer difficult for her to meet his eye. Nevertheless, what he had to say came with a decided abruptness. "Who is the woman, Mrs. Yardley? That's what I have come to learn, and not to complain of your child." The answer struck him very strangely, though he saw nothing to lead him to distrust her candour.
Oliver Ostrander, under no circumstances and by means of no sophistries, can ever marry the daughter of John Scoville. I should think you would see that for yourself." "But if John should be proved to have suffered wrongfully? If he should be shown to have been innocent?" "Innocent?" "Yes.
But the shadow of the trees began to lengthen, casting broad bars across the alle, and the sun sank lower to the level of their eyes. They were quite surprised, on looking around a few moments later, to discover that the gardens were quite deserted, and Ostrander, on consulting his watch, found that they had just lost a train which the other pleasure-seekers had evidently availed themselves of.
It did not prevent him, however, from asking quite abruptly: "In what shape and by what means did this communication reach you?" "I found it lying on the walk between the gates." "The same by which Judge Ostrander leaves the house?" "Yes," came in faint reply. "I see that you share my fears. If one such scrap can be thrown over the fence, why shouldn't another be?
My son's concerns are no longer mine. If you have broken into my course of life for no other purpose than to discuss the affairs of Oliver Ostrander, I must beg you to excuse me. I have nothing to say in his connection to you or to any one." "Is the breach between you so deep as that!" This she said in a low tone and more as if to herself than to him.
She knew the strange tenderness of this masculine woman, which had survived a husband's infidelities and a son's forgetfulness, to be given to her, and her heart sank at the prospect of separation, even while her pride demanded that she should return to her old life again. Then she wondered if the duchess was right; did she still cherish the hope of meeting Ostrander again?
"But as my father allows me some explanation, I shall be very glad to hear what has happened here to occasion my imperative recall." "Do you not read the papers, Mr. Ostrander?" "I have not looked at one since I started upon my return." Mr. Black glanced at Deborah, who was slipping away. Then he made a move towards the parlour. "If you will come in and sit down, Mr.
No one noticed, I say, until, simultaneously with the appearance of Judge Ostrander on the threshold, a loud cry swept through the room of "Don't! don't!" and the man they had barely noticed, flashed by them all, and fell at the judge's feet with a smothered repetition of his appeal: "Don't, father, don't!"
Recoiling before a cynicism that pierced with unerring skill the one joint in his armour he knew to be vulnerable, the judge took a minute in which to control his rage and then addressing the half- averted figure in the window said: "Mrs. Scoville, will you assure this man that you have no expectations of marrying your daughter to Oliver Ostrander?"
"But," objected Deborah, "if you know where to look for him, why take the child? Why go yourself? Why not telegraph to these places?" His answer was a look, quick, sharp and enigmatical enough to require explanation. We shall have to surprise Oliver Ostrander, in order to place his father's message in his hands." "You may be right. But Reuther? Can she stand the excitement the physical strain?"
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