Bildungsromans; Deception -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Mothers and daughters -- Fiction; Women authors -- Fiction
Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
AN INTERRUPTED NIGHT (from inside flap of dust jacket)
By ISABELLA M. ALDEN (PANSY)
Author of "Ester Ried," "Wise and Otherwise," etc.
In her preface Grace Livingston Hill, a niece of Pansy's, explains
that this tale is based on actual facts told by the woman impersonated
in the story by Mrs. Dunlap. Pansy, now eighty-seven years old and
bed-ridden, found herself unable to complete the preparation of her
story and entrusted the task of putting it into shape to Mrs. Hill,
herself an author of great prominence. In spite of Pansy's advanced
years she still shows the same sparkle and sincerity and understanding
of youth that gave such interest and charm to "Ester Ried" and "Four
Girls at Chautauqua." This story tells of how a young girl comes up
against one of life's most terrible experiences and with the help of
her new-found friend, Mrs. Dunlap, fights her way through a maze of
trickery and deceit to a fuller understanding of life—and romance in
all its beauty.
AN
INTERRUPTED
NIGHT
By
ISABELLA M. ALDEN
("Pansy")
_Author of_
_"The Fortunate Calamity,"_
_"Esther Reid," "Wise and Otherwise,"_
_"Three People," "Four Girls at Chautauqua," etc._
_With a Foreword by_
GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL
[Illustration]
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA & LONDON
1 9 2 9
[Illustration]
Copyright, 1929, by J. B. Lippincott Company
Printed in the United States of America
FOREWORD
AS LONG ago as I can remember there was always a radiant being who was
next to my mother and father in my heart, and who seemed to me to be a
sort of a combination of fairy godmother, heroine, and saint. I thought
her the most beautiful, wise, and wonderful person in my world, outside
of my home. I treasured her smiles, copied her ways, and listened
breathlessly to all she had to say, sitting at her feet worshipfully
whenever she was near; ready to run any errand for her, no matter how
far.
I measured other people by her principles and opinions, and always
felt that her word was final. I am afraid I even corrected my beloved
parents sometimes when they failed to state some principle or opinion
as she had done.
When she came on a visit the house seemed glorified because of her
presence; while she remained, life was one long holiday; when she went
away it seemed as if a blight had fallen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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