England -- Fiction; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction; Mystery and detective stories
Again, she had not asked her mother what was the bar which existed to
prevent her marriage with Allen. Dora thought her mother knew this,
and might reveal the obstacle. But then she would be forced to tell
the portion of her story which she had hidden. Would she do so?
Dora was doubtful, for the weak little coquette was as strong as steel
in aught that concerned herself. Unblinded by filial love, Dora
estimated her mother's character at its true value. There was no
further hope of learning the truth in that quarter. And who, then,
would tell her--Allen, Joad, Mrs. Tice? She would be forced to ask one
of the three to speak. Since she knew so much, she might as well know
more. And a fuller knowledge might enable her to save Allen, to marry
Allen, to revenge the death of Edermont, and to win the fifty thousand
pounds. But yet, all----
"Dreams, dreams; vain, vain dreams!" sighed Dora, and went to bed in
as hopeless a frame of mind as can well be imagined.
Fate always arranges matters much better than ourselves. Here was Dora
at a dead stop; she knew not what to do, or in which direction to
turn. It seemed that no one would advise her as to the future; and
that she must be content to lose Allen, and accept the humiliating
position of Joad's wife. But while she was steeling her heart to face
this dreary prospect Fate was at work, and next morning Pallant
appeared. He came to point out the road.
Dora was surprised when Mrs. Tice informed her that a gentleman wished
to see her. She was still more surprised when Pallant was shown into
the morning-room where she sat. The old supercilious look was on his
face, the old cynicism was looking out of his blue eyes, and as he
stood bowing, with the strong sunlight glittering on his red beard, he
looked as worldly and evil a man as could be imagined. Dora remembered
how he had extorted money from her weak mother for over two years, and
rose to meet him with a stern face.
"What has brought you here, sir?" she asked coldly.
"You have," said Pallant, calmly taking a seat. "I saw Lady Burville
yesterday, and she gave me the gist of your conversation."
"I do not see how it can interest you," said she contemptuously; "you
cannot get out of me what I have not got. I am poor, Mr. Pallant."
"More's the pity!" he replied, quite indifferent to her shaft. "With
your beauty and my brains, we might do worse than marry!"
"Marry--marry you!"
"I forgot. You are in love with that foolish young doctor," he said in
his sleepy voice. "That is a pity. At our first meeting I warned you
to beware of Allen Scott."
"I know you did. Why did you warn me?"
"Ah! I see your mother did not tell you everything, Miss Carew, else
you would not ask me such a question. I warned you, lest you should
give him your heart. It would be foolish to do so, because you can
never marry him."
"Why?"
"That is my secret. I don't tell you all I know. It is not worth my
while."
Dora looked at him scornfully.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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