FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146  
147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   171   >>   >|  
Imogen and Pere Anselme. But when she thought of this latter a sensation of discomfort came. How could she read in peace with the dear old man, who was so keen and so subtle he would certainly divine that all was not well? And ever his sentence recurred to her: "Remember always, my daughter, that _le Bon Dieu_ settles things for us mortals if we leave it all to Him, but if we take the helm in the direction of our own affairs, it may be that He will let circumstance draw us into rough waters." And then, that as she had taken the helm she must abide by her word. Bitterness and regret were her portion--in a far greater degree than after that other crisis of her life, when its realities had come to her, and she knew she must bear them alone. She had been too young then to understand half the possibilities of mental pain, and also there was no finality about anything--all might develop into sunshine again. Now she had the most cruel torture of all, the knowledge that she herself by her wilfulness and pride had pulled down the blinds and brought herself into darkness, and that there was not anything to be done. Nothing could have been more unhappy than was the state of these two young people in their separate homes. In the old days when she used to try and banish the too lenient thoughts of Michael, she had always the picture of his selfishness and violent passion to call up to her aid--but that was blotted out now, and in its place there was the memory that it was he, not she, who had behaved nobly and decided to sacrifice all happiness to be true to his friend. Sometimes when she first got back to Heronac she, too, allowed herself to dream of their good-bye, and the cruel sweetness of that brief moment of bliss, and she would go through strange thrills and quivers and stretch out her arms in the firelight and whisper his name aloud--"Michael--my dear love!" She could not even bear the watching, affectionate eyes of Madame Imogen and sent her to Paris on a month's holiday. The Pere Anselme had been away when she arrived, at the deathbed of an old sister at Versailles, so she was utterly alone in her grim castle, with only the waves. The once looked-for letters from Henry were a dreaded tie now. She would have to answer them!--and as his grew more tender and loving, so hers unconsciously became more cold, with a note of bitterness in them sometimes of which she was unaware. And Henry, in Paris with Moravia, wondered a
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146  
147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   171   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
Michael
 

Anselme

 

Imogen

 
Heronac
 

allowed

 

bitterness

 

Sometimes

 

thoughts

 

lenient

 

banish


moment

 
friend
 

sweetness

 
picture
 
blotted
 

Moravia

 

wondered

 

selfishness

 

passion

 

unaware


sacrifice

 

happiness

 

violent

 

decided

 

memory

 
behaved
 

loving

 

holiday

 

arrived

 

Madame


letters

 

looked

 
deathbed
 

Versailles

 

castle

 

utterly

 

sister

 

dreaded

 

quivers

 

stretch


firelight
 
thrills
 

tender

 

strange

 

whisper

 
answer
 

affectionate

 
watching
 
unconsciously
 

develop