“I hope you are well, mother?” the young man said, kissing her tenderly, and as the light fell on her face one saw features still handsome in spite of the silver hair that set off the blackness of her large eyes. “Yes, I am well. And you, my dear son?
Norman de Vere was by no means unacquainted with the passionate and jealous temper of his wife, having experienced its evil effects many times during the two years in which he had been her husband. But her present outburst was so unexpected and so reasonless that he almost recoiled in
Twenty-four hours later it was night in Jacksonville—night, all lovely with countless stars and a full October moon. “The light of many starsQuivered in tremulous softness on the air,And the night breeze was singing here and there.” Before the gates of a palatial home, whose white walls glimmered
Sweetheart herself remained quite silent and pensive for a moment after her little song, as if it had touched some chord of sadness in her heart. Then she nestled her curly head softly against Norman de Vere’s broad breast. “Sweet’art tired, Sweet’art s’eepy,” she lisped in
The smoking-car was draughty and ill-smelling; the three commercial travelers, with their cards and whisky, noisy to the point of rudeness, and the view from the windows of the slowly moving train was not interesting to one who had gone over the route to Jacksonville a dozen times before. The