"Mamma," interrupted the Countess, with a gravity which must have struck her mother as something unusual, "I must--"
She stopped short, for the woman was in the room.
"Pauline, go /yourself/ to Baudran's, and ask why my hat has not yet been sent."
Then the Countess reseated herself and scrutinized her mother. The Marquise, with a swelling heart and dry eyes, in painful agitation, which none but a mother can fully understand, began to open Moina's eyes to the risk that she was running. But either the Countess felt hurt and indignant at her mother's suspicions of a son of the Marquis de Vandenesse, or she was seized with a sudden fit of inexplicable levity caused by the inexperience of youth. She took advantage of a pause.
"Mamma, I thought you were only jealous of /the father/--" she said, with a forced laugh.
Mme. d'Aiglemont shut her eyes and bent her head at the words, with a very faint, almost inaudible sigh. She looked up and out into space, as if she felt the common overmastering impulse to appeal to God at the great crises of our lives; then she looked at her daughter, and her eyes were full of awful majesty and the expression of profound sorrow.
"My child," she said, and her voice was hardly recognizable, "you have been less merciful to your mother than he against whom she sinned; less merciful than perhaps God Himself will be!"
Mme. d'Aiglemont rose; at the door she turned; but she saw nothing but surprise in her daughter's face. She went out. Scarcely had she reached the garden when her strength failed her. There was a violent pain at her heart, and she sank down on a bench. As her eyes wandered over the path, she saw fresh marks on the path, a man's footprints were distinctly recognizable. It was too late, then, beyond a doubt. Now she began to understand the reason for that order given to Pauline, and with these torturing thoughts came a revelation more hateful than any that had gone before it. She drew her own inferences--the son of the Marquis de Vandenesse had destroyed all feeling of respect for her in her daughter's mind. The physical pain grew worse; by degrees she lost consciousness, and sat like one asleep upon the garden-seat.
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- 1heavy rain set in, which was hardly sufficient to drive
- 2poor ape that through your girlish infatuation you married
- 3There was a fearful scream of anguish and terror from the
- 4from further assaults upon the prisoner, though he continued
- 5one of our party was unable anywhere to purchase either
- 6of the mighty carnivora of the jungle—how fiendishly
- 7Kincaid's prisoners from Lady Greystoke during their flight
- 8the spear before it could reach its mark. The black, whipping
- 9was the especial pride and joy of My Dear and Meriem. The
- 10and shortly after dawn his fears were realized in the discovery
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- his boys had deserted, for a hunting party from the bungalow
- edge of the jungle about the village. The blacks were returning.
- You think your wife safe in England, said Rokoff. Poor
- come and look upon the stranger, who sleeps within my village.
- of an ancient tertiary epoch) of which these islands are
- into the branches above delayed it momentarily in its steady
- his head, to signify that the chief had made no mistake
- bush. His only alternative was to go ahead of his pack
- and other comforts. At Caylen, the most southern island,
- the Kincaid, and Ay hear that little baby cry sometimes.