The Fatal Glove by Clara Augusta Jones Trask


Main
- books.jibble.org



My Books
- IRC Hacks

Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare

External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd

books.jibble.org

Previous Page | Next Page

Page 12

Upper Tendom was ringing with the approaching nuptials of Miss Harrison
and Mr. Linmere. The bride was so beautiful and wealthy, and so
insensible to her good fortune in securing the most eligible man in her
set. Half the ladies in the city were in love with Mr. Linmere. He was
so _distingue_, carried himself so loftily, and yet was so gallantly
condescending, and so inimitably fascinating. He knew Europe like a book,
sang like a professor, and knew just how to hand a lady her fan, adjust
her shawl, and take her from a carriage. Accomplishments which make men
popular, always.

Early in July Mr. Trevlyn and Margie, accompanied by a gay party, went
down to Cape May. Mr. Trevlyn had long ago forsworn everything of the
kind; but since Margie Harrison had come to reside with him he had given
up his hermit habits, and been quite like other nice gouty old gentleman.

The party went down on Thursday--Mr. Paul Linmere followed on Saturday.
Margie, had hoped he would not come; in his absence she could have
enjoyed the sojourn, but his presence destroyed for her all the charms
of sea and sky. She grew frightened, sometimes, when she thought how
intensely she hated him. And in October she was to become his wife.

Some way, Margie felt strangely at ease on the subject. She knew that the
arrangements were all made, that her wedding _trousseau_ was being gotten
up by a fashionable _modiste_, that Delmonico had received orders for the
feast, and that the oranges were budded, which, when burst into flowers,
were to adorn her forehead on her bridal day. She despised Linmere with
her whole soul, she dreaded him inexpressibly, yet she scarcely gave her
approaching marriage with him a single thought. She wondered that she did
not; when she thought of it all, she was shocked to find herself so
impassive.

Her party had been a week at Cape May, when Archer Trevlyn came down,
with the wife of his employer, Mr. Belgrade. The lady was in delicate
health, and had been advised to try sea air and surf-bathing. Mr.
Belgrade's business would not allow of his absence at just that time,
and he had shown his confidence in his head clerk by selecting him as
his wife's escort.

Introduced into society by so well established an aristocrat as Mrs.
Belgrade, Arch might at once have taken a prominent place among the
fashionables; for his singularly handsome face and highbred manners made
him an acquisition to any company. But he never forgot that he had been
a street-sweeper, and he would not submit to be patronized by the very
people who had once, perhaps, grudged him the pennies they had thrown to
him as they would have thrown bread to a starving dog. So he avoided
society, and attended only on Mrs. Belgrade. But from Alexandrine Lee
he could not escape. She fastened upon him at once. She had a habit
of singling out gentlemen, and giving them the distinction of her
attentions, and no one thought of noticing it now. Arch was ill at ease
beneath the infliction, but he was a thorough gentleman, and could not
repulse her rudely.

A few days after the arrival of Mrs. Belgrade, Arch took her down to the
beach to bathe. The beach was alive with the gorgeous grotesque figures
of the bathers. The air was bracing, the surf splendid.

Mr. Trevlyn's carriage drove down soon after Mrs. Belgrade had finished
her morning's "dip;" and Margie and Mr. Linmere, accompanied by
Alexandrine Lee, alighted. They were in bathing costume, and Miss Lee,
espying Arch, fastened upon him without ceremony.

"Oh, Mr. Trevlyn," she said, animatedly, "I am glad to have come across
you. I was just telling Mr. Linmere that two ladies were hardly safe with
only one gentleman in such a surf as there is this morning. I shall have
to depend on you to take care of me. Shall I?"

Of course, Arch could not refuse, and apologizing to Mrs. Belgrade, who
good-naturedly urged him forward, he took charge of Miss Lee.

Linmere offered Margie his hand to lead her in, but she declined. He kept
close beside her, and when they stood waist deep in the water, and a huge
breaker was approaching, he put his arm around her shoulders. With an
impatient gesture she tore herself away. He made an effort to retain her,
and in the struggle Margie lost her footing, and the receding wave bore
her out to sea.

Linmere grew pale as death. He knew if Margie was drowned, he was a
ruined man. His pictures and statuary would have to go under the
hammer--his creditors were only kept from striking by his prospect of
getting a rich wife to pay his debts. He cast an imploring eye on the
swimmers around him, but he was too great a coward to risk his life
among the swirling breakers.

Previous Page | Next Page


Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 17th Mar 2025, 9:21