"How am I to tell them?"
"There is no need to tell them," said a voice behind her. "They know it
already."
She started to her feet and looked round. It was Magdalen who stood
before her--Magdalen who had spoken those words.
Yes, there was the graceful figure, in its mourning garments, standing
out tall and black and motionless against the leafy background. There
was Magdalen herself, with a changeless stillness on her white face;
with an icy resignation in her steady gray eyes.
"We know it already," she repeated, in clear, measured tones. "Mr.
Vanstone's daughters are Nobody's Children; and the law leaves them
helpless at their uncle's mercy."
So, without a tear on her cheeks, without a faltering tone in her voice,
she repeated the lawyer's own words, exactly as he had spoken them. Miss
Garth staggered back a step and caught at the bench to support herself.
Her head swam; she closed her eyes in a momentary faintness. When they
opened again, Magdalen's arm was supporting her, Magdalen's breath
fanned her cheek, Magdalen's cold lips kissed her. She drew back from
the kiss; the touch of the girl's lips thrilled her with terror.
As soon as she could speak she put the inevitable question.
Pages:
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240