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Brame, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Monica), 1836-1884

"Dora Thorne"

He looked at her; her face had grown
white, even to the very lips, and a nameless, awful dread lay in
her dark eyes.
"What is it?" he asked, breathlessly. She recovered herself with
a violent effort, and tried to smile.
"How foolish I am!" she said; "and what is worse you will all
laugh at me. It was sheer fancy and nonsense, I know; but I
declare that looking down into the water, I saw my own face there
with such a wicked, mocking smile that it frightened me."
"It was the simple reflection," said Lionel Dacre. "I can see
mine. Look again, Miss Earle."
"No," she replied, with a shudder; "it is only nonsense, I know,
but it startled me. The face seemed to rise from the depths and
smile--oh, oh, such a smile! When shall I forget it?"
"It was only the rippling of the water which distorted the
reflection," said Lord Airlie.
Beatrice made no reply, but drew her lace shawl around her as
though she were cold.
"I do not like the water," she said presently; "it always
frightens me. Let us land, Mr. Laurence, please. I will never
go on the lake again."
Gaspar laughed, and Mr.


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