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Brief Contents
PART I: INTRODUCTION TO MANAGERIAL FINANCE
“She had come out of the theatre with her victory fresh upon her.
The change from the glare of lights and the clamour of voices to the
darkness of the streets and her own solitude reminded her how little
that triumph meant to her. ‘He has forgotten,’ she said to herself
always. The purpose of her work, that she might be worthy of her
lover; the purpose of her suffering, that he might not suffer, guided
her no longer. She seemed to sink back to a world of misery and of
hopeless effort. The silence of the night reminded her that she was
without a friend in all the city. She had ever hungered for love; the
loveless childhood she had known had fed that hunger. Jézero had
been to her a garden of delight because love had built there arbours
for her, and she had rested in them. But now these were shut to her.
She recalled every word that Count Paul had spoken; his
callousness, his raillery, his restraint in avoiding any word of affection
for her. She knew instinctively that never more would she hear his
voice or touch his hand. She remembered that she must go back to
a home which was not a home; she thought of the man Klun, of his
brutalities and his persecutions. She asked herself to what end she
had succeeded in the theatre, had realised the visions of her
childhood. Life could give her nothing, since it did not give her love.
“These thoughts—the children of her melancholy—were hers until
the carriage set her down in the Wallner Strasse, and she ran up the
stairs to her apartments. She was a little surprised that Zol opened to
her knock; but surprise became fear when she saw his face and the
blood upon his hands. She had long looked upon the young hussar
as a real friend, though she was often ignorant of her own feeling in
the matter. But now when he stood before her, pale and bloody and
trembling with excitement, a great flood of affection for him rushed
upon her, and she seized both his hands.
“‘Zol,’ she cried, ‘tell me—what is it, Zol? You have hurt yourself! Oh,
my God! don’t look at me like that! Speak to me!’
“She said this, but her instinct—as the instinct of woman will in
moments of peril—told her something of the truth. She endeavoured
to pass into the boudoir, but he held her back, the blood from his
hands soiling her cloak.
“‘Christine,’ he exclaimed, ‘for God’s sake don’t—you must not go—I
will tell you——’
“But she had brushed past him, and a moment later her terrible cry
told him that she stood over the body of her husband. Excellency,
who may write of a moment like that?
“‘Zol,’ she said—ten minutes had been numbered then, and he had
given her the story—‘take me away from Vienna; oh, I can bear it no
longer! Zol, take me to Zlarin.’
“She said the words, and then lay almost inanimate in his arms,
while his lips were glued to hers and his limbs trembled against her
own.
“Excellency, this is the story of Christine of the Hills. You have seen
the pavilion which Zol has built for her upon the island she has learnt
to love. They say that he has married her, and has no thought but for
her happiness. For myself, Christine is very good to me. Eccoli, am I
not her father? Did I not give her bread when all the world cried upon
her? Surely it is right that she should remember me now when she
has money beyond her wishes, and is the mistress of houses and of
servants.
“And she has forgotten, you ask—ah, who shall tell us that? Who
shall read the whole heart of a woman who has loved one man and
has given herself to another? Let us remember only that affection is
about her path; that she has come back from her dreaming to the
island home where the visions were given to her.
“And from the new dream of content, excellency, it is my prayer that
she will never wake.”
THE END.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been
standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
The title of Chapter XIX, ANDREA GOES AN
ERRAND, appears to be missing a word, but has been
transcribed as printed.
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTINE OF
THE HILLS ***
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