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Assingham delighted in Maggie she knew by this time how most easily to reach her, and if she was unhappy about Charlotte she knew, by the same reasoning, how most probably to miss that vision of her on which affliction would feed.
Assingham had a demur that she felt she could now afford. "We'll talk of Charlotte some other day. They both, at any rate, thought themselves safe at the time." "Then why did they keep from me everything I might have known?" Her friend bent upon her the mildest eyes. "Why did I myself keep it from you?" "Oh, you weren't, for honour, obliged."
Assingham so effectually in presence as on the afternoon of that lady's return from the Easter party at Matcham; but the intermission was made up as soon as the date of the migration to Fawns that of the more or less simultaneous adjournment of the two houses began to be discussed.
It was an appeal the couple of days had done nothing to invalidate everything, much rather, to place in a light, and as to which, obviously, it wouldn't have fitted that anyone should raise an objection. Who was there, for that matter, to raise one, from the moment Mrs. Assingham, informed and apparently not disapproving, didn't intervene?
Assingham wound up, "illuminating to ME." Her husband attended, but the momentary effect of his attention was vagueness again, and the refuge of his vagueness was a gasp. "Poor dear little girl!" "Ah no don't pity her!" This did, however, pull him up. "We mayn't even be sorry for her?" "Not now or at least not yet. It's too soon that is if it isn't very much too late. This will depend," Mrs.
To leave them to themselves as they less and less want, or at any rate less and less venture to appear to want, to be left. As they had for so long arranged things," the Princess went on, "you see they sometimes have to be." And then, as if baffled by the lucidity of this, Mrs. Assingham for a little said nothing: "Now do you think I'm modest?"
This produced a minute during which their interchange, though quickened and deepened, was that of silence only, and the long, charged look; all of which found virtual consecration when Maggie at last spoke. "I'm sure you tried to act for the best." It kept Fanny Assingham again a minute in silence. "I never thought, dearest, you weren't an angel." Not, however, that this alone was much help!
"You're safe, as far as that goes," Maggie returned; "you may take it from me that he won't come in; and that I shall only find him below, waiting for me, when I go down to the carriage." Fanny Assingham took it from her, took it and more.
She doesn't understand us. And really, my dear," Charlotte added, "Fanny Assingham doesn't matter." He wondered again. "Unless as taking care of THEM." "Ah," Charlotte instantly said, "isn't it for us, only, to do that?" She spoke as with a flare of pride for their privilege and their duty. "I think we want no one's aid."
Assingham almost caressingly repeated, "just all your very own nobody else's at all. I've never thought of you but as OUTSIDE of ugly things, so ignorant of any falsity or cruelty or vulgarity as never to have to be touched by them or to touch them. I've never mixed you up with them; there would have been time enough for that if they had seemed to be near you.
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