Penny Dreadfuls, 1900 · page 217 of 306
Guy Earlscourt's Wife — page 217: what you’re looking at
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n old She . fort- r, not | been | aew iwhton ut its s own ~ them _ char- omplhi- eks to f ? mson’s rood as y back - Atch- nhaim ; grand theat- to go. to his attend. would as not, men.” old, in not be fort- filled ? e, and o, her health to 7 erect Twiek- 9 he 1n- ‘dressed herself for Mrs. Atcherly *“‘Camilla’s Husberd,’ 205 Miss Lisle lifted one hand, with stilled the rising tempest. “Mrs. Galbraith,” she said, in a voice that rang, “enough of this! Lam no child to be whipped and put to bed, as you see fit—no poor, timid, spiritless creature, to be tyrannized over by you, or your brother! I shall go to Twie ke nham to- morrow night as surely as to-morrow night comes. She swept out of the room superbly. As he passed the library-—the door ajar—she was suddenly checked by hearing her own name from the hated lips of Lord Montalien. “Does Paulina know yet you are going to take her to ‘The irs’ for the winter?” he asked. “Not yet. I tell you, Montalien, the determined will of that girl is past belief! She is capable of anything. She shall not know her destination until we are fairly started— Eleanor will fabricate some story to satisfy her. Once at ‘The Firs’ I have no fear. It will be all our own way then— the house is as lonely and desolate as a® tomb; and I will take care she does not pass the gates. You will be with her day and nig rht-—.f you cannot make her consent to marry haughty gesture, that you before spring Q, why then——”’ “She shall consent, by fair means or foul. She shall only leave ‘The Firs’ as my wife.” He rose as he spoke, and Paulina flitted away. In her own rooms, she sank down, white and cold. What horrible plot was this they were concocting agi ainst her? They were going to imprison her at “The Firs” for months and months, that dreary house Mrs. Galbraith ever spoke of with a shudder. And Lord Montalien was to be her constant companion, and by fair means or foul she was only to leave it his wife. Her heart grew sick within her. Iler own will might be strong, but that of those two men was stronger. Imprisoned there—friendless—how could she hope te outwit them ¢ “Something must be done to-night,” she thought, as she °s-ball. She had not the least idea what, but something must be “cne to avert he r fate. Never, never, never! would she go down to “The Firs.’ She was thinking this as her maid dressed her-—th-nking it as they drove rapidly through the cold, moonlit night— thinking it as she entered Mrs. Atcherly’s pleasant rooms, hlled with pleasant people. She was looking beautiful in a dress of silver-blue moire, with diamonds sparkling in her gold hair, on her marble throat and arms. She was pale as niavble herself, but there was a feverish fire in her eyes that told of the unrest within. Sir Vane, Lord Montalien, even Maud, attended this party comicbooks.com