Natalie VseslavitchFrom a miniature in the Verdayne collection.
HIGH NOON
A NEW SEQUEL TO
“THREE WEEKS”
ANONYMOUS
NEW YORK
THE MACAULAY COMPANY
1911
Copyright, 1911, by
The Macaulay Company
FOREWORD
I must make a confession.
It will not be needed by the many thousands who have lived with me thewonderful sunrise of Paul's love, and the sad gray morning of hisbereavement. To these friends who, with Paul, loved and mourned hisbeautiful Queen and their dear son, the calm peace and serenity of thehigh noon of Paul's life will seem but well-deserved happiness.
It is to the others I speak.
In life it is rarely given us to learn the end as well as thebeginning. To tell the whole story is only an author's privilege.
Of the events which made Paul's love-idyl possible, but a mere hint[6]has been given. If at some future time it seems best, I may tell youmore of them. As far as Paul himself is concerned, you have had butthe first two chapters of his story. Here is the third of the trilogy,his high noon. And with the sun once more breaking through the cloudsin Paul's heart, we will leave him.
You need not read any more of this book than you wish, since I claimthe privilege of not writing any more than I choose. But if you doread it through, you will feel with me that the great law ofcompensation is once more justified. As sorrow is the fruit of ourmistakes, so everlasting peace should be the reward of our heart'sbest endeavor.
Sadness is past; joy comes with High Noon.
"The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen!"
The Author.
HIGH NOON
CHAPTER I
t was Springtime in Switzerland! Once more the snow-capped mountainsmirrored their proud heads in sapphire lakes; and on the beeches bythe banks of Lake Lucerne green buds were bursting into leaves.Everywhere were bright signs of the earth's awakening. Springtime inSwitzerland! And that, you know—you young hearts to whom the godsare kind—is only another way of saying Paradise!
Towards Paradise, then, thundered the afternoon express from Paris,bearing the advance guard of the summer seekers after happiness. Butif the cumbrous coaches carried swiftly onward some gay hearts, some[10]young lovers to never-to-be-forgotten scenes, one there was among thethrong to whom the world was gray—an English gentleman this, whogazed indifferently upon the bright vistas flitting past his window.The London Times rep