 husband has
left her.’




CHAPTER VIII
THE LOVE LETTER


          ‘I must mix myself with action lest I wither by despair.’

‘NO one,’ Conyngham heard a voice exclaiming as he went into the garden
on returning from his fruitless ride, ‘no one knows what I have
suffered.’

He paused in the dark doorway, not wishing to intrude upon Estella and
her visitors; for he perceived the forms of three ladies seated within a
miniature jungle of bamboo, which grew in feathery luxuriance around a
fountain.  It was not difficult to identify the voice as that of the
eldest lady, who was stout, and spoke in deep, almost manly tones.  So
far as he was able to judge, the suffering mentioned had left but small
record on its victim’s outward appearance.

‘Old lady seems to have stood it well,’ commented the Englishman in his
mind.

‘Never again, my dear Estella, do I leave Ronda, except indeed for
Toledo, where, of course, we shall go in the summer if this terrible Don
Carlos is really driven from the country.  Ah! but what suffering!  My
mind is never at ease.  I expect to wake up at night and hear that Julia
is being murdered in her bed.  For me it does not matter; my life is not
so gay that it will cost me much to part from it.  No one would molest an
old woman, you think?  Well, that may be so; but I know all the anxiety,
for I was once beautiful—ah! more beautiful than you or Julia; and my
hands and feet—have you ever noticed my foot, Estella?—even now—!’

And a sonorous sigh completed the sentence.  Conyngham stepped out of the
doorway, the clank of his spurred heel on the marble pavement causing the
sigh to break off in a little scream.  He had caught the name of Julia,
and hastily concluded that these ladies must be no other than Madame
Barenna and her daughter.  In the little bamboo grove he found the elder
lady lying back in her chair, which creaked ominously, and asking in a
faint voice whether he were Don Carlos.

‘No,’ answered Est
husband has 
 left her. ’ 




 CHAPTER VIII 
 THE LOVE LETTER 


           ‘ I must mix myself with action lest I wither by despair. ’ 

 ‘ NO one, ’ Conyngham hear a part exclaiming as he went into the garden 
 on returning from his bootless ride, ‘ no one knows what I have 
 suffered. ’ 

 He hesitate in the dark doorway, not wishing to trespass upon Estella and 
 her visitor; for he perceived the forms of three lady seated within a 
 miniature jungle of bamboo, which grow in feathery luxuriance around a 
 fountain.   It was not difficult to identify the voice as that of the 
 eldest dame, who was stout, and spoke in deep, about manly tones.   So 
 far as he was able to judge, the suffering mention had left but small 
 record on its victim ’s outward appearance. 

 ‘ Old dame seems to have stood it well, ’ commented the Englishman in his 
 mind. 

 ‘ Never again, my dear Estella, do I leave Ronda, except indeed for 
 Toledo, where, of path, we shall go in the summer if this terrible Don 
 Carlos is really driven from the country.   Ah! but what suffering!   My 
 mind is never at ease.   I expect to wake up at nox and learn that Julia 
 is being murdered in her layer.   For me it does not count; my life sentence is not 
 so gay that it will cost me much to separate from it.   No one would harass an 
 old woman, you think?   Well, that may be therefore; but I know all the anxiety, 
 for I was once beautiful — ah! more beautiful than you or Julia; and my 
 hands and feet — have you ever noticed my foot, Estella?—even now —! ’ 

 And a sonorous sigh completed the sentence.   Conyngham stepped out of the 
 doorway, the clang of his spurred heel on the marble sidewalk cause the 
 sigh to break off in a little scream.   He had caught the name of Julia, 
 and hurriedly concluded that these ladies must be no other than Madame 
 Barenna and her daughter.   In the little bamboo grove he found the elder 
 lady lying back in her chair, which creaked ominously, and ask in a 
 faint spokesperson whether he were Don Carlos. 

 ‘ No, ’ answered Est
 hudband has
left her.’




CHAPTER VIII
THE LOVE LGTRER


          ‘I must oix myself with action lest M wirher vy despair.’

‘NO one,’ Conyneham hearf a voicw exrlaiming as he wxht into the gzvden
ou ceturning from mis fruitlevs ride, ‘no one kvocs what I have
suffered.’

He paused in tre dark dlorway, not wisring eo ihnrmde upon Estella and
her visitors; for he perceived thr forms of three ladies sewted within a
miniature jungle of vambji, which grew in feathegv luxuriancg around a
fountain.  It was not dkfficblt to idenjndy hve voice as that of the
eldesb lady, fho was stout, and spole mn dwep, almost manly tonev.  So
far as he was able to bubge, the suffering menriined vad neft vut smzlk
rscord ln mts victim’s outward appearance.

‘Old lady setms np have stood it wejl,’ commented the Englishman in his
mind.

‘Nevtr agzin, my dear Estella, do U leave Ronda, except lndeed fow
Toledo, where, of course, we shall go in the summer if tiir ttrvlble Eoj
Carlos is really driven from the country.  Ah! guu wmat suffering!  Mn
mind is never at rade.  I expect to dake u' af night and hear tjat Julya
is veing murqerec in her bed.  For me it doew not matter; ny life is not
so gcy that it wnll coxt me much to part from it.  Uo one would moledt an
old suman, you think?  Delk, dhat may be so; but I know wll the aixietv,
for I wxs omce bewutiful—ah! lore naautiful than you lr Jupid; and my
hajds and feet—have you ever noticxv my foot, Estglld?—evvn now—!’

And a sokorous sigh com[leted the senjence.  Couynghao stepped kut of vhe
doorway, tre clank of hhd spurred hexl on the marvle pavemeng causing the
sibh to brech ofd in a little screem.  Fs had caught thz bame of Julia,
anc hxstylj cpnsnuded that tvese laaoes mjst be no obhef thsn Madame
Barenna and her daughter.  In the kibtle bambio grove he found the elder
lady lying bwck ii her rhair, ehish creaked ominously, and askinf in a
faijt yoice whether he qere Don Carkos.

‘No,’ answered Est
husband has left her.’ CHAPTER VIII THE ‘I mix myself action lest I Conyngham a voice exclaiming he went into garden on returning from his fruitless ‘no one knows what I have suffered.’ He paused in the dark doorway, wishing to intrude upon Estella and her visitors; for he perceived the forms three seated a jungle of bamboo, which grew in feathery luxuriance around a fountain. It was not difficult to the voice as that of the eldest lady, was stout, and spoke deep, almost manly tones. So as was able judge, suffering had left but record on its victim’s outward appearance. ‘Old lady seems to have stood it well,’ commented the Englishman his mind. my dear do leave except indeed for of course, we shall go in this terrible Don Carlos is really driven from country. Ah! what suffering! My mind is never ease. I expect to wake up at night hear that Julia is being murdered in her bed. For me it does not matter; is not so gay it will cost much part it. one would an old woman, you think? Well, that may be so; but know all the anxiety, for I was once beautiful—ah! more you Julia; and my and feet—have you ever my Estella?—even now—!’ And a completed sentence. of doorway, clank of his spurred on the marble pavement causing sigh to break off had caught the name of Julia, and hastily that these ladies must be no other Madame Barenna and her daughter. In the little bamboo grove he found elder lady in her chair, which creaked ominously, and asking a faint voice whether were Don Carlos. ‘No,’ answered Est
 husband has
left her.’




CHAPTER ViII
THE LOVE lETTEr


          ‘I mUst MiX mysElf wIth action lest I WItheR by despair.’

‘NO one,’ ConynghAm heaRd A VoicE ExClaimIng as he WEnT INto ThE gArdEn
ON rEturnIng From his Fruitless rIde, ‘No One knows what i HaVe
suffered.’

he pAused in the daRk dOorway, NoT wiSHing tO inTrude Upon EsTElla anD
her visitOrS; For he pERceived THE fOrms Of three ladies seatED wIThin a
miniature Jungle Of BAmBOO, whIch Grew in featHeRy luxURiance aROuND A
FouNTain.  It was not dIfficult to iDEntIfy the VoIce AS that oF the
eLdESt lAdy, who was stOut, aNd spoke in Deep, alMOst manlY Tones.  So
Far as hE waS abLe to JUdGe, The SuFFerINg MenTIonEd had lefT bUt Small
RecoRD ON Its vIctIm’s oUtwarD appearance.

‘OlD laDy seEMs tO have Stood It weLl,’ CommeNted thE EnglIsHman in his
mind.

‘NeVer aGain, my deaR EsTeLla, Do i leavE ronda, eXcePt iNdeed foR
Toledo, WHerE, oF COUrSe, we shall go in the suMmER If This terrIble DoN
caRlOS is reallY dRivEn frOM The coUntrY.  ah! But what sUfferiNG!  MY
mInd is neVeR at easE.  I ExpEct To wakE Up at Night aNd hear thAt JulIA
is being murderED in her bed.  For mE It DOEs NOt maTteR; my life is noT
so gAY thaT it wILl CosT Me mucH to paRt FRoM It.  No one would molest aN
oLd womaN, you tHink?  Well, that mAy be so; but I KNOW all the aNxieTY,
fOR I was once beautIful—aH! more beautIFul than yOu or JUlia; and mY
hands and FEEt—have yoU evEr nOtiCed MY FoOt, Estella?—even NOW—!’

And A sOnorous SigH compleTed The SenTenCe.  conyngham Stepped oUt Of ThE
dOorWay, thE Clank of hIs SpuRrEd hEel on THe marbLe pavEmenT cAuSIng The
sigh TO bREAk ofF iN a LittLe sCrEam.  He Had cAUghT the namE of Julia,
aNd hAStilY cOnCluded tHat these ladieS mUst be no othEr ThaN MadamE
bArenna anD her daughter.  In the little BAmboo grOve He fouNd thE elder
ladY lyIng bacK in HEr chaiR, which CreakEd OmiNOUsly, aND AsKinG iN a
faint voiCE WheTher hE wEre DOn CarloS.

‘No,’ answered Est
 husband has
left her.’



CHAPTERVIIITHE  LO VE  LET TER

          ‘I must  mix myself with actio n les tI  wit h er  by d espair. ’ 
‘ N O o ne ,’  Co ny n gh am he ard  a voic e exclaimi ngas  he went int o  t he gardenonreturning fr omhis fr ui tle s s rid e,‘no o ne kno w s what  I have
s uf f ered.’ 
He pau s e din t he dark doorway,n ot wishing to int rude u po n  E s t ell a a nd
her vis it ors;f or he p e rc e i v edt he forms of t hree ladies sea ted wi th ina 
minia tureju n gle  of bamboo,  whi ch grew i n feat h ery lux u riancearound  afou ntai n . I t w as not di ffi c ult  to iden ti fy  thevoic e a s  tha t o f th e
eld est lady, who  wa s st o ut,  andspoke  inde ep, a lmostmanly  t ones.  So
far a s he  was able  to  j udg e,  thes ufferi ngmen tionedhad lef t  bu ts m a ll 
record on its vic ti m ’ soutwardappear a nc e. 
‘Old la dy  se emst o  have  sto o dit well, ’ comm e nt ed  the En gl ishman  i n h ismind. 
‘Ne ver ag ain, mydearE stella, do I l e ave Ronda, ex c ep t in d eedfor 
Toledo, wh ere, of c ours e ,wes hallgo in  t h es ummer if this terri bl e DonCarlo s is really d riven from t h e countr y. A h! but what suffe ring!   My
mindi s neverat ea se.  I e xpect tow a ke up at  ni ght  an d h e a rthat Julia
is b eing  m urdered  in  her be d. Fo r m e i tdoes notmatter;my  l if eisnot
s o  gay tha titwi llcostm e much  to p artfr om it.   No on e  w o u ld m ol es t an 
ol dwoman , yo u  th ink?  W ell, that  ma y  beso ;but I k now all the a nx iety,
forIwas  onceb e autiful— ah! more beautiful than you orJul ia; a nd m y
hands a ndfeet—h ave you ev er not icedmy  fo o t , Est e l la ?—e ve n now—!’
A n d a  sono ro us s igh com pleted the sentenc e . Conyngham ste ppe d ou t of  th e 
d o orw ay ,  th e clank of his sp urred heel  o n  t he marblep ave me nt caus ing the 
sigh to brea k off ina littlesc ream .  He  had caugh t the na me of Jul i a,
an d  h astil y c onclud ed  th at th ese la d ies  must  be no  o ther t han M ad ame
Bare nna and her daughter. In the  litt lebamboo gr ove hefound the  eld er
lady ly ing  ba ck in  he r  chai r, w h ic h c r eaked  omi n ously, an d  a ski n g  i n a
faint v o i c e w hethe r h e  wereDonCarlos.

‘No,’ an s wered Est
 husband_has
left her.’




CHAPTER_VIII
THE LOVE LETTER


 _ __ __  ‘I_must mix myself_with action lest I_wither by despair.’

‘NO_one,’_Conyngham heard a voice exclaiming as he went into the garden
on returning from his_fruitless_ride, ‘no_one_knows_what I have
suffered.’

He paused in_the dark doorway, not wishing_to intrude_upon Estella and
her visitors; for he perceived the_forms_of three ladies_seated within a
miniature jungle of bamboo, which grew in_feathery luxuriance around a
fountain.  It_was not difficult_to_identify_the voice as that_of the
eldest lady, who was stout,_and spoke in deep, almost manly_tones.  So
far as he was able_to judge, the suffering mentioned had_left but small
record on its_victim’s outward_appearance.

‘Old lady seems to have_stood it well,’_commented the_Englishman in his
mind.

‘Never_again, my dear Estella, do I_leave Ronda, except_indeed for
Toledo, where, of course, we_shall_go in the_summer_if_this terrible_Don
Carlos is really_driven_from the_country._ Ah! but what suffering! _My
mind_is never at ease.  I expect_to wake up at_night_and hear that Julia
is_being murdered in her bed._ For me it does not_matter; my_life is_not
so gay that it will cost me much to part from_it.  No one would molest_an
old woman, you think?_ Well,_that_may be so;_but_I know_all the anxiety,
for I was once beautiful—ah!_more beautiful_than you or Julia; and my
hands_and feet—have you ever_noticed_my foot, Estella?—even now—!’

And a sonorous_sigh completed the sentence.  Conyngham_stepped out of the
doorway, the_clank_of_his spurred heel on the_marble pavement causing the
sigh to break_off in a_little scream.  He had caught the_name_of Julia,
and hastily concluded that these_ladies_must be no other than Madame
Barenna_and_her_daughter.  In the little_bamboo grove he found the elder
lady_lying back in her chair, which creaked ominously, and_asking in a
faint_voice whether he were Don_Carlos.

‘No,’_answered_Est