FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105  
106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   >>   >|  
telegram to Mary, which ran thus: "If you hear that I have been drowned, don't believe it. Have arrived safe home after a night at sea." This done, for he guessed that all sorts of rumours would be abroad, he inquired after Mr. Fregelius and Stella. Having learned that they were both going on well and sent off his telegram, Morris went to bed and slept for ten hours. Morris looked round the comfortable sitting-room with its recessed Tudor windows, its tall bookcases and open hearth, where burned a bright fire of old ship's timbers supported on steel dogs, and thought to himself that he was fortunate to be there. Then the door opened, he heard the housemaid's voice say, "This way please, Miss," and Stella came in. She wore a plain white dress that seemed to fit her very well, though where she got it from he never discovered, and her luxuriant hair was twisted up into a simple knot. On the bosom of her dress was fixed a spray of brilliant ampelopsis leaves; it was her only ornament, but none could have been more striking. For the rest, although she limped and still looked dark and weary about the eyes, to all appearances she was not much the worse for their terrible adventure. Morris glanced at her. Could this dignified and lovely young lady be that red-cloaked, loose-haired Valkyrie whom he had seen singing at daybreak upon the prow of the sinking ship, or the piteous bedraggled person whom he had supported from the altar in the Dead Church? She guessed his thought--from the beginning Stella had this curious power of discovering his mind--and said with a smile: "Fine feathers make fine birds, and even Cleopatra would have looked dreadful after a November night in an open boat." "Have you recovered?" he asked. "Yes, Mr. Monk; that is, I don't think I am going to have inflammation of the lungs or anything horrid of the sort. The remedies and that walk stopped it. But my feet are peeling from being soaked so long in salt water, and my hands are not much better. See," and she held them towards him. Then dinner was announced, and for the second time that day they walked arm-in-arm. "It seems a little strange, doesn't it?" suggested Morris as he surveyed the great refectory in which they two, seated at the central table, looked so lone and small. "Yes," she answered; "but so it should, anything quite usual would have been out of place to-day." Then he asked her how her father was going on, a
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105  
106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

looked

 

Morris

 

Stella

 
thought
 
supported
 

guessed

 
telegram
 

Valkyrie

 

dreadful

 

Cleopatra


November
 

recovered

 

haired

 

cloaked

 

Church

 
beginning
 

daybreak

 

sinking

 

person

 
piteous

curious

 
feathers
 

bedraggled

 

discovering

 

singing

 

surveyed

 

refectory

 
suggested
 

walked

 

strange


seated

 

central

 

father

 

answered

 

stopped

 

peeling

 

remedies

 

inflammation

 

horrid

 

soaked


dinner

 

announced

 

lovely

 

ampelopsis

 

windows

 

bookcases

 
hearth
 

recessed

 

comfortable

 

sitting