Miles Tremenhere: A Novel. Vol. 2 of 2Maillard, Annette Marie
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Miles Tremenhere: A Novel. Vol. 2 of 2
Maillard, Annette Marie
English fiction
The most timid woman will find energy and resolution for all, when the
happiness of one she loves is at stake. In the first instance, the two
women employed a man to go to the office for them; but this did not
satisfy Minnie when he proclaimed his want of success.
"How can we be quite certain he went, or searched as we should have
done?" asked she. "I will go myself."
"You cannot do so alone!" cried Mary, "and I am unable to leave my
shop."
"Why not? Oh, but I can! Miles will be all day to-morrow at the Louvre;
I will not accompany him, and putting on a close bonnet and veil, lest
I should meet any one, take a _fiacre_ and go."
Mary tried to dissuade her for some short time, and then she
relinquished the task herself, convinced that it would be the most
secure and satisfactory thing to do. Minnie had no one to advise or
assist her, and on Mary she almost looked as upon a sister, from the
circumstances of her childhood passed with Miles and his mother; then
again, they were mutually interested in this affair, and Mary was so
humble and contrite in manner, it would have been impossible for the
other not to love her. All this intimacy, however, did not pass without
censure on Miles's part, not that he doubted Mary then; but he deemed,
in worldly wisdom, that where Minnie's name had been in question,
however innocent she had proved, too much caution could not be observed;
then, too, the one dark spot in his happiness ever arose before him--her
imprudence in flying with himself, which would ever leave one place in
her fame open to animadversion; but he spoke to the least worldly woman
ever created, and then at this moment she had so strong a motive in
seeking Mary, that all his arguments terminated in a tacit consent on
his part, however unwillingly given, when Minnie's arms encircled his
neck, and her smiling cheek pressed itself like a child's to his, as she
coaxed him into good temper; then, too, there was a fonder hope in his
heart than any he had ever yet known, whatever he had once said of being
even jealous of his own child.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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