Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 231: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

226. _ Love is His Own - dying to have’ them come! Bu 1 suppose. ‘ake UI sieur De Launey linger to talk polities, and Nectar ram, Waldron, and the rest, to discuss’ high art.” © N, . are ‘no supposed to comprehend these serious ‘matters wf life, po - imbeciles that we are!” Pais REAL Reis ek ont: She threw herself into a fauteuil, tie victuré “Fhe ‘ ci fogs calm, and gazed at her cousin. Leonie made some initati 1 reply, and kept on her impatient walk, © = yy 7 “Keally, | Mrs. Rutherford,” Mlle. De Montreuil. wei calmly, “if it is not absolutely necessary for your cr irae | that vigorous exercise—I wish you would sit down. I have — ds nerves as well as ordinary mortals, and it rather sets t em on ~ edge, that feverish march of yours. Was not monsieur, the handsome artist, sufficiently devoted during dinner? or did some one interrupt him on the verge of proposal? As far as~ I could judge, from my remote seat, he looked distrait, moody. — in fact, if he were not an artist—a lion, and the light of! “ your existence, ma chere—I should say sulky. “What. was” A it—the proverbial eccentricity of genius, or indigestion ? a”. “When—you can talk without~ sneering, Mademoiselle ee Montreuil,” Mrs. Rutherford answered, with becoming dig- 4 nity, “I may answer you. It is accounted. clever, I believe, to be able to sneer at the finer feelings of our nature, to be_ ; eynical and contemptuous, and all that, but the sneerers are generally soured, I notice, beforehand, and the hey: cag | but a another name for spite and ill-temper.” Buss The count’s daughter laughed good- naturedly. te ss eM “The finer feelings of your nature! I like that Oy you, | Leonie. As my friend Sam” Weller remarks, there are so — many finer féelings that one is puzzled sometimes among — them. Don’t be cross, Leonie—tell | me all about. this “old lover of yours, as I am: sure you are dying to do. I ‘promise © to be all sympathy and attention, and I know, my poor little | cans cousin, secrecy 1s not your forte. Sit down here comfort- } ably, and let me hear the whole story.” eat “There is nothing to tell,” Leonie said, okay. ae seat, * nevertheless; “at least; nothing you have not already heard. — We were engaged, over ten years ago, and”—with sudden vehemence—“he is the only man alive I ever loved!” serpin “And you are the only woman he ever loved, i suppose,” Go her cousin suggested. ‘He looks like a man who might b be — faithful to an early idol. Strange, then, you are not his wife fe to-day, petite!” Wii 2 bie “Tt is all my own fault,” Leonie said, bitterly Mal —from first to last. I loved him, but I loved my pride e and vani more; and when he lost his uncle’s fortune, I left. “A baer act!” said the calle clear voice o f th h ake ae ca < @ @ @