Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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We are not for a moment assuming that it would be wise of anyone to put trust in dreams, signs, or omens of any sort—​such an act would be the worst of folly.

Superstition is a blight, a mildew, and a curse to all who come under its fatal influence, and to a certain extent it was a blight upon the young life of Jane Ryan.

She had borne up for years hopefully and trustfully, in the full belief that the death of her lover would be avenged.

Now that this had come to pass, Jane felt that her mission was fulfilled. She had little to care for, nothing to hope, and it mattered not to her how her future course was shaped.

She consulted the wise woman who had prognosticated the appearance of Gregson at the farmhouse. The woman told her to forget the past, and look hopefully to the future, which is about the best advice she could give.

But Jane found it difficult to forget. A shadow had fallen upon her like a funeral pall.

One afternoon, while sitting alone in the breakfast-room of Oakfield, she met with a surprise. She had been at needlework. She put this aside, and leaning her head on her hand, with her elbow resting on the table, she fell into one of those deep reveries which had been so frequent with her of late.