The men about him are capable of deceiving you to an extent you have
no conception of,--you who know so little of the world's baseness."
"O aunt, it is true! He sent me this dreadful thing; I took it, for
it bears the handwriting of my brother."
She held in her hand a card, one of a pack. It was the death-card
of superstitious lookers into futurity. Had he selected it because
it bore that reputation, or was it by chance?
On the back of it he had written, or scrawled in a trembling hand,
yet plainly, the words: "Return home, Amelie. I will not see you.
I have lost the game of life and won the card you see. Return home,
dear sister, and forget your unworthy and ruined brother, Le
Gardeur."
Lady de Tilly took the card, and read and re-read it, trying to find
a meaning it did not contain, and trying not to find the sad meaning
it did contain.
She comforted Amelie as best she could, while needing strength
herself to bear the bitter cross laid upon them both, in the sudden
blighting of that noble life of which they had been so proud.
Pages:
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917