To think that the old
days might return was a nightmare to her. She felt that she would do
anything, dare anything, to win her way back to her old position with
her uncle. Only a few words had passed between them at parting. She had
asked him to let her people know nothing, to let them believe that she
had gone on a journey for him.
"Let them have a few more months!" she begged. "Then if I succeed in
what I am going to try, it will be all right. If I fail, well, they will
have been happy for a little longer."
He had spoken no word of hope to her. He had made no promises. All that
he had said had been curt and to the point.
"What you lost it is open for you to find. If it is found, it will be as
though it were not lost."
But what a wild-goose chase it seemed! How could she hope for success!
Even Stella would laugh at her; and Vine,--she had seen him only once,
but she could imagine the smile with which he would greet any entreaties
she could frame. She shook her head at her own thoughts. Entreaties! She
would have to choose other weapons than these. By force and cunning she
had been robbed; her only chance of effective reply would be to use the
same means, only to use them more surely.
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