Forget Me Not | Page 1 of 180

Author: Marjorie Bowen | Submitted by: Maria Garcia | 16 Views | Add a Review

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Marjorie Bowen


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This novel is based on a fact—that of a crime so incredible that it caused amazement equal to the horror it inspired; the public sentiment aroused by this atrocity went far to provoke the sudden French Revolution of 1848. The author is responsible for everything in the novel save this central fact, and for the details of the life of the period, which are largely taken from contemporary newspapers.


She took off her glove and glanced at the wedding ring which she had no right to wear; this irritated her companion. As he opened the door of the musty, private parlour of the inn he reflected that many of her actions since he had eloped with her had irritated him; a bad beginning.

He endeavoured to reassure himself by a full look at her beauty and elegance. Mary Showler accepted with pleasure this admiration that was tinged by doubt and reluctance. Still displaying the slim hand with the gold band that he had given her that morning, she sat composedly at ease, ignoring her homely surroundings, the dark room with a dusty case of prize fish, a shelf with pewter tankards, a new engraving of the girlish Queen in her coronation robes.

Young Morrison decided that Mary Showler was worth the trouble; a beauty, if ever there was one...a woman of taste, too; he liked her gown of deep indigo blue glaces silk, so neatly buttoned to the slim figure.

She was aware of his approval and smiled; her toilette had cost her all she possessed in the world. She had never worn such clothes before, nothing but the plainest attire was permitted the teachers at Miss Le Moine's Academy for Young Ladies.

"Well," she said, still smiling, "so far successful, Robert! Can we get any refreshment here? And when do you expect your sister?"

He did not like that; she should not have forced an explanation when she ought to have understood the situation without a word. To gain time he rang the bell and ordered coffee, she, smiling always, considering him with furtive steadiness the awhile.

They had been travelling together since morning and the tedious intimacy had not increased her esteem for him; she realised that she would have to be very careful, very patient. He was pampered, wilful, bad tempered, an indulged sensualist, and worse than any of this, she feared, with a real sinking of the heart, that he was stupid.

But he was wealthy and the next-of-kin to a duke; Mary Showler made her smile soft and engaging as she poured the coffee and offered the cakes.

"Are you not fatigued, Robert? The train was so wearisome! When shall we proceed?"

"Well, I have to see to a few arrangements." He stared moodily into his coffee cup. She considered all he did and said with an intense, secret interest which she did not for a second mistake

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Great book, nicely written and thank you BooksVooks for uploading

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