Detective and mystery stories; Mackinac Island (Mich. : Island) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
Never before had he received such a rebuff, and after brooding over it
an hour in the dismal car, it grew into an insult. His deeper feelings
were aroused. Under his indolence he had a dominant pride, even
arrogance of nature, which would have astonished many who thought they
knew him. Whether his words had or had not been the result of impulse,
now that they were spoken, they were worthy of at least respect. He grew
more angry as the minutes passed, for he was so deeply hurt that he took
refuge in anger. To be so thwarted and played upon--he, a man of the
world--by a young girl; a young girl regarding whom, too, there had
sprung up in his heart almost the only real faith of his life! He had
believed in that face, had trusted those violet eyes, he did not know
how unquestioningly until now. And then, feeling something very like
moisture coming into his own eyes, he rose, angry over his weakness,
went forward to the smoking car, lit a cigar, and savagely tried to
think of other things. A pretty fool he was to be on a night train in
the heart of Pennsylvania, going no one knew whither.
But, in spite of himself, his mind stole back to Anne. She was so
different from the society women with whom he had always associated; she
had so plainly loved him. Poor, remorseful, conscientious, struggling,
faithful heart! Why had she fled from him? It did not occur to him that
she was fleeing from herself.
He arrived at Valley City at eleven o'clock, and had the very room with
gaudy carpet he had pictured to himself. The next morning, disgusted
with everything and out of temper as he was, he yet so far postponed his
return journey as to make inquiries concerning schools for girls--one in
particular, in which a certain Mademoiselle Pitre had been teaching
French and music for several years. The clerk thought it must be the
"Young Ladies' Seminary." Heathcote took down the address of this
establishment, ordered a carriage, and drove thither, inquiring at the
door if Mademoiselle Pitre had arrived.
There was no such person there, the maid answered. No; he knew that she
had not yet arrived. But when was she expected?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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