When shadows dieSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
When shadows die
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
American fiction -- 19th century
_WHEN SHADOWS DIE_
A Sequel to “Love’s Bitterest Cup”
_By_
MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH
AUTHOR OF
“Nearest and Dearest,” “The Lost Lady of Lone,” “A Leap in the Dark,” “A
Beautiful Fiend,” “Her Mother’s Secret,” Etc.
[Illustration: [Logo]]
A. L. BURT COMPANY
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
WHEN SHADOWS DIE
CHAPTER I
MEETING AND PARTING
The Earl of Enderby and his sister, Mrs. Force, acting under the
directions of the earl’s doctor, now set out for Germany, and in due
time reached Baden-Baden. Their apartments, which had been secured by
telegram, were ready for them.
They had one night’s rest from the journey, and were waiting for their
breakfast to be served in their private parlor, when they were surprised
by the entrance of Mr. Force and all his party.
The family had been separated scarcely three months, yet to see them
meet a spectator might think they had been parted for three years.
They soon paired off.
Mr. Force and his wife sat down together on a corner sofa and began to
exchange confidences.
Leonidas and Odalite stood together at the window of the room, looking
out upon the busy scene on the street, or rather seeming to do so, for
they were really talking earnestly together on the subject of their
troubled present and uncertain future.
They had not been separated for one day during their travels; but they
were to say good-by to each other very soon.
“It might be for years, and it might be forever.”
And so they seized every opportunity for a _tête-à-tête_.
Wynnette and Elva hovered around their mother, in their delight at
seeing her again.
The invalid earl sat for a while alone and forgotten, until little
Rosemary Hedge, who was also overlooked in the family reunion, drew a
hassock to the side of his easy chair, sat down and laid her little,
curly black head on his knee. The action was full of pathos and
confiding tenderness. The earl laid his hand on the little head and ran
his thin, white fingers through the black curls. But neither spoke, or
needed to speak—so well the man and the child understood each other.
“Leonidas, my boy!” called Abel Force from his corner, “I wish you would
go and see if we can get rooms for us all here. This should have been
seen to sooner.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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