I doubt if you
have ever met such a person. I think the world has but one Alice. She
is very young, very impressible, and some think very eccentric, very
passionate and romantic to frenzy. There is something which impels me
to tell you--but no, I have no right to do so. But this I must tell
you; for you cannot have been in the house here so long without
observing it. There is no congeniality between herself and brother;
indeed, very little between her and any of her family. She is alone.
She is one by herself; yes, one by herself in the midst of many; for
the family is a large one. But remember, there is none like Alice. Be
gentle to her and pity her; and pity her most when you hear that
strange laugh."
There was music in the drawing-room, soft and gentle, and the
accompanying voice was tremulous with suppressed emotion. Gradually it
swells in volume until it fills the spacious apartment, and the clear
notes from the tender trill rose grandly in full, clear tones, full of
pathetic melody, and now they almost shriek. They cease--and the laugh,
hysterical and shrill, echoes through the entire house.
Pages:
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602