What she said to him was simply this (and he gave her occasion to say it, two minutes after she came down to see him, dressed in one of her homely little Virginia gowns):
“Don’t say any more, Mr. Stafford, please. You have been so good to me, and I like you so much that I can’t bear to make you sorry, but I’m engaged to be married to a man in Virginia, whom I love with all my heart, and so that settles it.”
It settled it simply and at once for the poor young fellow, but he took it hard. New York saw him no more that season, and when Carter was married in the spring his magnificent collection of pearls was sent to Virginia with a note which implored her to take them as a wedding present, and said that unless she consented to wear them, no other woman ever should.
He believed it, poor fellow, but Carter didn’t. That was the only thing that comforted her as she stood, with her lover’s arm around her waist, turning over the splendid jewels.
“Of course they must go back,” she said, “but not just yet. I can’t bear to hurt him.”
“Poor, poor fellow!” was her companion’s response, spoken in tones of heart-felt commiseration, “what a beggar he is, with all his millions, and how criminally rich I feel!”
A New Thing Under the Sun
A New Thing Under the Sun
During the months of summer Belton was usually crowded with city guests, but the last of these departed, as a rule, with the falling leaves, and by the time winter had set in the little town had relapsed into its normal monotony.
One year, however, there was an exception, and Mrs. Bryan, who had pleasant accommodations in her large, old-fashioned house, received, for a stay understood to be indefinite, a city boarder, who arrived in midwinter, and took two of her best rooms at the highest summer rates.