The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 05, No. 31, May, 1860: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
Philosophy
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 05, No. 31, May, 1860: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
Laura rose up in her bed, and seized me by my shoulder, and shook me,
crying between her teeth, "You love him! you love him!" Then she fell
back on her pillow. "Oh, if he were here now! He went, I say, to marry
the woman he was engaged to before he saw you. He was nearly mad,
though, when he went. The night mother gave them their last party, when
you wore your black lace dress, and had pink roses in your hair,
somehow I hardly knew you that night. I was in the little parlor,
looking at the flowers on the mantelpiece, when Redmond came into the
room, and, rushing up to me, bent down and whispered, 'Did you see her
go? I shall see her no more; she is walking on the beach with Maurice.'
He sighed so loud that I felt embarrassed; for I was afraid that Harry
Lothrop, who was laughing and talking in a corner with two or three
men, would hear him; but he was not aware that they were there. I did
not know what to do, unless I ridiculed him. 'Follow them,' I said.
'Step on her flounces, and Maurice will have a chance to humiliate you
with some of his cutting, exquisite politeness.' He never answered a
word, and I would not look at him, but presently I understood that
there were tears falling. Oh, you need not look towards me with such
longing; he does not cry for you now. They seemed to bring him to his
senses. He stamped his foot; but the carpet was thick; it only made a
thud. Then he buttoned his coat, giving himself a violent twist as he
did it, and looked at me with such a haughty composure, that, if I had
been you, I should have trembled in my shoes. He walked across the room
toward the group of men.--'Ah, Harry,' he said, 'where is Maurice?'
'Don't you know?' they all cried out; 'he has gone as Miss Denham's
escort?' 'By Jove!' said Harry Lothrop,--'Miss Denham was as handsome
as Cleopatra, to-night. Little Maurice is now singing to her. Did he
take his guitar under his arm? It was here; for I saw a green bag near
his hat, when we came in to-night.' Just then we heard the twang of a
guitar under the window, and Redmond, in spite of himself, could not
help a grimace.--Is it not a droll world?" said Laura, after a pause;
"things come about so contrariwise."
She laughed such a shrill laugh, that I shuddered to hear it, and I
fell a-crying. "But," she continued, "I am going, I trust, where a key
will be given me for this cipher."
Tears came into her eyes, and an expression of gentleness filled her
face.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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