Suffered in vain : $b or, A plaything of fateClay, Bertha M.
General
Suffered in vain : $b or, A plaything of fate
Clay, Bertha M.
Dime novels; England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Popular literature
If her words sounded cold and repelling to her hearer, they were yet
more so to herself. She felt that she spoke harshly, and with scarcely
veiled bitterness, and, as she saw the young man droop his head, she
hastily added, with a softened tone:
“Your language, sir, is strange and perplexing to me. You allude
to some unhappy circumstances, of which, as you say, I am entirely
ignorant. If you see fit to explain these circumstances to me, I think
you may count on my sympathy. If you do not deem it necessary that I
should be further acquainted with them, let it be forgotten that you
have ever touched on them at all.”
The young girl, faint and agitated from contending feelings, put out
her hands like one who does not see her way clearly. Blanche, who had
drawn back, stepped hastily to her side, and gave her an arm to lean
upon.
“My poor darling!” whispered Blanche tenderly.
The sympathetic accents vibrated on Lois’ heart like an electric
shock. She roused herself from the momentary weakness to which she had
yielded, and extended her hand to Captain Desfrayne.
“Adieu, sir,” she said.
The young man caught her hand, and involuntarily pressed the slender
fingers within his own. He gazed for an instant into the dreamy eyes,
so pure, so frank, so truthful, so trusting, then, loosing the little
hand, turned away with a deep sigh.
As he did so, Lady Quaintree looked back, and made a signal to the
girls to accompany her to the carriage, which was in waiting. She
smiled in her own gracious way upon the young officer, though she
really wished him at Jericho.
He advanced, and lifted his hat.
“I presume, madam, I can be of no service to you?” he said, glancing
for a moment at the Honorable Gerald, who was unknown to him.
Lady Quaintree, remembering that the young men were strangers to each
other, introduced them.
“If you should happen to make a longer stay in town than you count on,”
she said, “we shall be very pleased to see you, either this evening,
or to-morrow, or at any time it may suit you to come. I find my lord’s
illness is not of so serious a nature as at first appeared.”
An interchange of civil smiles, a shake or two of the hand, some polite
valedictory salutations, and the brief whirling scene was over--past as
a dream.
“I think I was right,” murmured Blanche, in her friend’s ear, as they
drove off in Lady Quaintree’s luxurious carriage.
Lois tightly pressed the hand that tenderly sought her own; but did not
meet Blanche’s eye, which she feared for the moment.
Paul Desfrayne threw himself into a hansom.
“Alderman’s Lane,” he cried to the driver.
CHAPTER XXIV.
FRANK AMBERLEY’S ADVICE.
Captain Desfrayne was at first so eager and vehement, that Frank
Amberley found it a little difficult to disentangle the strange story
he had to tell.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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