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Augusta, Clara, 1839-1905

"The Fatal Glove"

Will you not give me a chance to defend myself?"
She blushed painfully; her embarrassment disturbed him, for he was
generous to all, and he really felt very kindly toward her.
"I cannot explain," she said, in a subdued voice. "I am sorry you came
just now. But these slanders anger me, as well as wound my feelings."
"What slanders, Miss Lee?"
Her color grew deeper. Animated by some sudden resolve, she lifted her
head proudly.
"I will tell you. Remember that you sought the information. Your coming
here has been made the subject of remark, and I have been accused of
having schemed to draw you here. You know if it be true."
His face flushed slowly. He recalled the silly stories that had some time
before reached his ears. And because of them she had suffered! This woman
whose unremitting care had saved his life! How thoughtless and cruel he
had been! He was a man of honor; if any woman's reputation had been
injured through his means, there was but one course for him to pursue.
He must make reparation. And how? For a moment his head whirled, but
glancing at the pale, distressed face before him, he made his decision.
"Alexandrine," he said, quietly, "you know just what my course has been.
You know my lowly origin--you know how life has cheated me of happiness.


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