The Unafraid

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1913. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XVIII Count Balsic's Wife Madame--? Irenya drew the curtain aside, demure as always in the presence of her guardian. He smiled as he passed, regarding her, for she was again arrayed in the pink frock and he saw her so for the first time. Broken rest had no dimming power over her young vigor; she glowed in the fresh morning with the bright colors of a flower. But she gave the visitor no time for comment, had he wished to speak; dropping the curtain behind him, she went back to her embroidery with the placidity of one who had no part in the proceedings. The girl for whom the visit was intended glowed with a color and life no less vivid, but drawn from keen sensitiveness instead of repose; indeed from a distress almost become fever. Delight had faced herself, during the long hours between dawn and this time. Michael had dragged her from unconsciousness with his cynical acuteness; his demand-- Stefan, or Danilo? Shame had scorched her, self-contempt raged in her, she hated herself as light-of-love; for he had spoken a truth. She had put another in his place. She, who had prided herself on her constancy, who meant to love once only and for all time, had turned from one man to another like a fickle creature of the boulevards. She had turned to Stefan Balsic, who had never wooed her, who did not desire her; to whom she had protested devotion to Michael not three days past. He, who did not change--how would he look at her if he knew? How was she to meet him, now that she herself knew? You sent for me, madame? She had stood facing the window, blindly feigning absorption to postpone the moment of meeting. At the question, she gripped her quivering nerves and turned. I beg your pardon. Yes. I have heard of Captain Lesendra. The level tones of her own...