The marquis had recently expressed himself displeased that his daughter was not attending more closely to her studies, and desired that Mademoiselle Dufrond would be more particular henceforth.
“Mademoiselle must not go away,” she reiterated, “Monsieur, her father, had explicitly said she must attend more closely to her studies.”
Study! with that terrible burden pressing her down until she was almost crushed.
The child felt that she should scream aloud at the thought.
“I cannot study; I am sick,” she said; and, unheeding the angry remonstrance that followed, she left Wycliffe the day following the marquis’ departure, and told no one whither she was going.
CHAPTER XXII
A WIFE’S APPEAL
Mr. George Sumner was agreeably entertaining a few of his friends in his handsome lodgings in London one raw, dismal night in January.
But there was no suspicion of either cold or gloom in the luxurious rooms where these boon companions were making merry.
A cheerful fire burned brightly in the polished grate; the candelabra were filled with waxen tapers, which, shedding their light over the closely drawn crimson curtains, cast a rosy glow over the whole apartment.
Pictures hung upon the walls, some fine and beautiful, while others were not of the most chaste character imaginable; flowers bloomed and shed their fragrance from various costly vases; busts of marble and figures in bronze were scattered here and there, and the whole apartment bespoke extravagance and luxurious living.