Read Online The Blythes Are Quoted by L. M. Montgomery - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: L. M. Montgomery
Ads: Link
And me wanting to marry, with lots of cash to give my woman the dandiest house at the Coast. Deuced hard luck, ain’t it? Excuse me. I always forget I’m talking to a minister when I’m with you. Never forgot it with old Mr. Sheldon. But then he is a saint.”
Curtis agreed that it was hard luck. Privately he thought it did not matter much, as far as Henry Kildare was concerned, whether Alice could or could not marry. Surely she could never care for this brusque, boastful man.
But there was real feeling in Kildare’s voice and Curtis felt very sympathetic just then with anyone who loved in vain.
“What’s that in the Field orchard?” demanded Henry in a startled tone.
Curtis saw it at the same moment. The moon had burst out and the orchard was day-clear in its radiance. A slender, light-clad figure stood among the trees.
“Good Lord, maybe it’s the spook!” said Henry.
As he spoke the figure began to run. Curtis voicelessly bounded over the fence in pursuit.
After a second’s hesitation Henry followed him.
“No preacher is going where I dassn’t follow him,” he muttered.
He caught up with Curtis just as the other rounded the corner of the house and the object of their pursuit darted through the front door.
Curtis had a sickening flash of conviction that the solution of the mystery which had seemed within his grasp had again evaded him.
Then a wild gust of wind swept through the hall of the house ... the heavy door clanged shut with a bang ... and caught in it hard and fast was the skirt of the fleeing figure’s garment.
Curtis and Henry bounded up the steps ... clutched the dress ... flung open the door ... confronted the woman inside.
“Good God!” cried Henry.
“You! You!” said Curtis in a terrible voice. “You!”
Alice Harper looked at him, her face distorted with rage and hatred.
“You dog!” she hissed venomously.
“It’s been you ...” gasped Curtis. “ You all the time ... you ... you devil ... you ...”
“Easy on, preacher.” Henry Kildare closed the door softly. “Remember you’re speaking to a lady ...”
“A ...”
“A lady,” repeated Henry firmly. “Don’t let us have too much of a fuss. We don’t want to disturb the rest of thefolks. Let’s go in the parlour here and talk this matter over quiet-like.”
Curtis did as he was told. In the daze of the moment he would probably have done anything he was told. Henry followed with his hand on Alice’s arm and closed the door.
Alice confronted them defiantly. Amid all Curtis’ bewil-derment one idea came out clearly in his confusion of thought.
How much Alice looked like Lucia! In daylight the difference of colouring kept the resemblance hidden. In the moonlit room it was clearly seen.
Curtis was shaken with the soul sickness of a horrible disillusionment. He tried to say something but Henry Kildare interrupted.
“Preacher, you’d better let me handle this. You’ve had a bit of a shock.”
A bit of a shock!
“Sit down there,” said Henry kindly. “Alice, you take the rocking chair.”
Both obeyed. Kildare seemed suddenly changed into a quiet, powerful fellow whom it would be well to obey.
“Here, Alice, my dear.” He wheeled a rocking chair out from the corner and put her gently into it.
She sat gazing at the both of them, a beautiful woman in the kind moonlight, the pale blue silk of her wrapper falling about her slender form in graceful folds.
Curtis wished he might wake up. This was the worst nightmare he had ever had ... it must be a nightmare. Nothing like this could be true.
Henry seated himself calmly on the sofa and leaned forward.
“Now, Alice, my dear, tell us all about it. You have to, you know. Then we’ll see what can be done. The game’s up, you know. You can’t expect us to keep this a secret.”
“Oh, I know. But I’ve had five glorious years. Nothing can rob me of that. Oh, I’ve ruled them ... from my ‘sickbed’ I’ve ruled them. I pulled the strings and
Curtis agreed that it was hard luck. Privately he thought it did not matter much, as far as Henry Kildare was concerned, whether Alice could or could not marry. Surely she could never care for this brusque, boastful man.
But there was real feeling in Kildare’s voice and Curtis felt very sympathetic just then with anyone who loved in vain.
“What’s that in the Field orchard?” demanded Henry in a startled tone.
Curtis saw it at the same moment. The moon had burst out and the orchard was day-clear in its radiance. A slender, light-clad figure stood among the trees.
“Good Lord, maybe it’s the spook!” said Henry.
As he spoke the figure began to run. Curtis voicelessly bounded over the fence in pursuit.
After a second’s hesitation Henry followed him.
“No preacher is going where I dassn’t follow him,” he muttered.
He caught up with Curtis just as the other rounded the corner of the house and the object of their pursuit darted through the front door.
Curtis had a sickening flash of conviction that the solution of the mystery which had seemed within his grasp had again evaded him.
Then a wild gust of wind swept through the hall of the house ... the heavy door clanged shut with a bang ... and caught in it hard and fast was the skirt of the fleeing figure’s garment.
Curtis and Henry bounded up the steps ... clutched the dress ... flung open the door ... confronted the woman inside.
“Good God!” cried Henry.
“You! You!” said Curtis in a terrible voice. “You!”
Alice Harper looked at him, her face distorted with rage and hatred.
“You dog!” she hissed venomously.
“It’s been you ...” gasped Curtis. “ You all the time ... you ... you devil ... you ...”
“Easy on, preacher.” Henry Kildare closed the door softly. “Remember you’re speaking to a lady ...”
“A ...”
“A lady,” repeated Henry firmly. “Don’t let us have too much of a fuss. We don’t want to disturb the rest of thefolks. Let’s go in the parlour here and talk this matter over quiet-like.”
Curtis did as he was told. In the daze of the moment he would probably have done anything he was told. Henry followed with his hand on Alice’s arm and closed the door.
Alice confronted them defiantly. Amid all Curtis’ bewil-derment one idea came out clearly in his confusion of thought.
How much Alice looked like Lucia! In daylight the difference of colouring kept the resemblance hidden. In the moonlit room it was clearly seen.
Curtis was shaken with the soul sickness of a horrible disillusionment. He tried to say something but Henry Kildare interrupted.
“Preacher, you’d better let me handle this. You’ve had a bit of a shock.”
A bit of a shock!
“Sit down there,” said Henry kindly. “Alice, you take the rocking chair.”
Both obeyed. Kildare seemed suddenly changed into a quiet, powerful fellow whom it would be well to obey.
“Here, Alice, my dear.” He wheeled a rocking chair out from the corner and put her gently into it.
She sat gazing at the both of them, a beautiful woman in the kind moonlight, the pale blue silk of her wrapper falling about her slender form in graceful folds.
Curtis wished he might wake up. This was the worst nightmare he had ever had ... it must be a nightmare. Nothing like this could be true.
Henry seated himself calmly on the sofa and leaned forward.
“Now, Alice, my dear, tell us all about it. You have to, you know. Then we’ll see what can be done. The game’s up, you know. You can’t expect us to keep this a secret.”
“Oh, I know. But I’ve had five glorious years. Nothing can rob me of that. Oh, I’ve ruled them ... from my ‘sickbed’ I’ve ruled them. I pulled the strings and
Similar Books
