If," he added, speaking more slowly, and looking meditatively
into the decanter by his side, "if you saw any chance by which, with
the help of what you will find in that pocket-book, a little
application, a little ingenuity, and a good deal of perseverance, you
could undo some part of the mischief which your carelessness has caused,
then, of course, I should lose that feeling concerning you, and your
place here would be open for your return. It would probably, also, be to
the advantage of your people if any such idea as this resulted in
successful action on your part. There is enough in that pocket-book," he
added, "to take you where you will, and to enable you to live as you
will for the remainder of the year, and during that time your people
also are provided for. I leave the matter in your hands."
He turned and left the room. Virginia stood at the end of the table,
clasping the pocket-book in her hands, and watching his retreating
figure. He opened and closed the door. She sank back into her place for
a moment and covered her face with her hands. For a moment she forgot
where she was. The perfume of the roses, with which the table was laden,
had somehow reminded her of the little farmhouse with its humble garden,
far up amongst the hills.
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