icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Theo: A Sprightly Love Story

Chapter 7 PARTING IS SWEET SORROW.

Word Count: 2583    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

in Paris, day after day, even week after week,

in spite of his determination, Theodora North had filled his whole life and nature as Priscilla Gower had never filled it, and could never fill it, were she his wife for a thousand years. He had made a mistake, and discovered having made it too late-that was all; but he blamed himself for having

is. He stayed in the face of his remorseful wretchedness. It was a terrible moral condition to be in, but h

ven while his weakness angered him. She had changed greatly during their brief separation, but the change grew deeper after they had once again encountered each other. She was more conscious of herself, more fearful, less innocently frank

on most occasions, but beyond that he rarely transgressed. It was by no means a pleasant position for a man in love to occupy. The whole world was between him and his love, it seemed. The most infatuated of Theodora North's adorers did not fear him, handsome and popular as he was, dangerous rival as he might have appeared. Lady Throck

ight ask a hearing-he dared not for his dishonored honor's sake. So even while nearest to her he stood afar off, as it were a witness to the innocent

ness love could bring to her. She would have given up all her new luxuries and triumphs for Denis Oglethorpe's sake. She would have gone back to Downport with him, to the old life; to the mending, and bread-and-butter cutting, and shabby dresses; she would have taken it all up again cheerfully, without thinking for one moment that

vied, was Victor Maurien. A jealous man might have feared him with reason under any circumstances, and Denis ch

man to take good care of her; and besides that, he is, of course, desirable. Girls like Theo ought to marry young. Marriage is their forte; they are too dependent to be left to themselves. T

cess which had gone on slowly but surely during the last few months. The time came when Theodora North began to comprehend her powers, and feel the c

ire. He knew the volume well enough at sight; it was the half-forgotten, long-condemned collection of his youthful poem

n or other, and so unreasonable was his frame of mind,

why you did that?"

t she sat with her hands still clasped upon t

y, "and the thing is not more worthless now than it was then, though it

Lady Throckmorton was right in one respect. She was strengthless enoug

could be angry with me if you knew how unhappy I am to-day." And the

far more reason than he had been gall

gasp, of a remorseful sob. "It has

gain?" he added, in

c sorrowfulness showing itself

aid, tremulously. "He says that he loves me. He came

sked again,

him unhappy," she answe

again; but his voice

trembling all over no

ger for him, and his perilled honor, in her simple

o another. Theo, upon her low sultane, sat mute with drooped eyes, becoming more silent every moment. Oglethorpe, in regarding her beautiful downcast face, forgot himself also. It was almost half an hour before he re

I had a purpose in comin

she repeate

hotel, that there was a letter awaiting me from London-from

hlessly almost. The news was so sudden that it made

his wife. And yet he was standing there now, only a few feet from her, so near that her outstretched hand would tou

, through the very strength of her

how deathly pale he grew. The beads of moisture started out upo

t," he said, huskily

him; "until you are marrie

ntervening months off her fingers. She was trying so hard to calm herself that

l, May, June, July. Five months-not quite five, perhaps. We may not be h

to make it her bridal tour, and she could have gone with him as Priscilla would, from place to place; near him all the time, loving and trusting him always, depending on him, obedient to his lightest wishes. Miss Pr

e, Denis Oglethorpe saw them. Such beautiful eyes as they were; such ignorant, believing, fawn-like eyes. The eyes

o her, his whole face ablaze with the fierceness of h

rself to me; she is stronger, truer, purer; she has loved me, she has been faithful to me; and God knows I honor and revere her. I am not worthy to kiss the ground her feet have trodden upon. I was vain fool enough to think I could make her happy by giving to her all she did not ask for-my life, my work, m

earth perhaps; and if we do, an impassable gulf will lie between us. I shall go back to England and hasten the marriage if I can; and then, if a whole life's strenuous exertions and constant care and

growing in her eyes; but when he finished she g

moment he touched them, his suppressed excitement and her own half-comprehende

to be wicked, and perhaps I have been wicked, too. Miss Gower is better than I am-mo

. And yet, though this man loved her, and would have given half his life to snatch her to his arms and

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open