A broken blossom, vol. 3 of 3

St. Pucelle never looked more beautiful than it did on the day that I took that walk with Charlie Sandilands. The summer glories, yet unfaded, had been overtaken by those of aut...

I hoped all the next day that Charlie would come, but he didn’t. My rough speech had hurt his feelings too much, and I heard afterwards that he wandered about the country in a m...

The day wore on, and Charlie Sandilands did not come. I was standing at the window towards evening, wondering at his absence, and blaming my folly in having spoken to him as I d...

I wondered for a moment, then, why he should have elected to tell it to me. But he went on too rapidly for me to put the question to him.

I find I have arrived at an epoch in my story—an epoch from which I can date a remarkable change in the character of my surroundings—I seemed to have got on the black books of t...

How we all came to visit the _Grottes de S. Jean_ in one large party, I never quite made out, but the fact remains that we went. Some one proposed it, probably Miss Markham (for...

The reverie which followed this, to me, astounding revelation resulted in the decision that it was my duty to tell Mr. Lovett what I had overheard. I hardly know, at this period...

I was standing in the little _salle_, holding Ange’s hot hand in my own. Six days had elapsed since Master Fred Stephenson had appeared and so mysteriously disappeared from amon...

I had been hugging this dear delicious secret to my breast for the last three days; going apart at intervals to gaze upon it and assure myself that it was mine; and quite unable...

It was a hard thing to say to Tessie, who knew nothing of Ange’s love for Charteris, but it was wrung from me in the extremity of my fear and pity for the child.