And
that headache! It was a purely conventional one--arranged for
effect. Mr. Verne had occasion to say some hasty words to his wife.
He could not sanction the steps she had taken in direct opposition
to his advice, and he must speak his mind. He was a man of few
words, but those words were to the point.
Thus while the rest of the family enjoyed themselves in the
drawing-room Mrs. Verne gracefully reclined upon die gorgeous
crimson lounge in her own room, and was as deeply interested in the
heroine of the novel which she was reading as a maiden of eighteen.
"Half-past nine. How the time flies over a good book. It is better
that I don't go down. I would be almost tempted to break the news.
Enjoy yourself while you may, my verdant friend. Money will triumph
over brains, especially when you have none of the former to back
them up."
Mrs. Verne picked up the ivory-backed hand glass within her reach,
and looking into its depths, exclaimed, "Mrs. Verne, of St. John,
New Brunswick--not exactly beautiful, but a pretty and fascinating
woman."
As Mrs. Verne laid aside the glass and once more took up the
novel--but not to read--her thoughts were bent upon conquest of an
important nature.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198