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Updated: June 1, 2025
Edith turned from her mother with an unsatisfied manner, and went up stairs. Mrs. Dinneford was surprised, not long afterward, to meet her at her chamber door, dressed to go out. This was something unusual. "Where are you going?" she asked, not concealing her surprise. "I have a little errand out," Edith replied. This was not satisfactory to her mother.
If you do not, I will." With a heavy heart Mr. Dinneford returned to the bank and informed the president that the note in question was a forgery. He had been gone from home a little over half an hour, when Granger, who had come to ask him about the three notes given him that morning by Freeling, put his key in the door, and found, a little to his surprise, that the latch was down.
"We have the name of one of them," said Mr. Dinneford. "She is called Pinky Swett, and it can't be long before the police are on her track. She is said to be a desperate character. Nothing more can be done now; we must wait until the police work up the affair. I will call at the mayor's office in the morning and find out what has been done." Mrs. Dinneford heard no more.
Dinneford, laying his hand on Granger with the tenderness of a father. "But, thank God! it is over. You have stood the terrible heat, and now, coming out of the furnace, I shall see to it that not even the smell of fire remain upon your garments." Still the young man could not be moved from his purpose to remain at the asylum until he had seen and conferred with his friends, in whose hands Mr.
"Where is my baby, mother?" Edith said this in a low, tremulous whisper, leaning forward as she spoke, repressed and eager. "Have you forgotten?" asked Mrs. Dinneford, with regained composure. "Forgotten what?" "You were very ill after your baby was born; no one thought you could live; you were ill for a long time. And the baby "
Its helplessness stirred in her a latent instinct of protection. "No no, it must not be," she was saying to herself, when the door opened and Mrs. Dinneford came back. Mrs. Bray did not lift her head, but sat looking down at the baby and toying with its hands. "Pshaw!" ejaculated Mrs. Dinneford, in angry disgust, as she noticed this manifestation of interest.
"You cannot be more deeply thankful than I am, George." Mr. Dinneford spoke with much feeling. "Let us bury this dreadful past out of our sight, and trust in God for a better future. You are free again, and your innocence shall, so far as I have power to do it, be made as clear as noonday. You are at liberty to depart from here at once. Will you go with me now?"
Dinneford to compass the ruin of Granger that she stepped beyond the limit of common prudence, and sought private interviews with Freeling, both before and after the completion of the partnership arrangement. These took place in the parlor of a fashionable hotel, where the gentleman and lady seemed to meet accidentally, and without attracting attention. Mrs.
Then, after a brief struggle with her feelings, she threw herself upon her father, sobbing out, "And oh, father, it may be my baby!" "My poor child," said Mr. Dinneford, not able to keep his voice firm "my poor, poor child! It is all a wild dream, the suggestion of evil spirits who delight in torment." "What became of my baby, father? Can you tell me?" "It died, Edith dear.
"Mr. Dinneford!" The two men stood looking at each other, with shut lips and faces marked by intense feeling, each grasping tightly the other's hand. "It is going to be well with you once more, my dear old friend!" said Mr. Dinneford. "God being my helper, yes!" was the firm reply.
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