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Cardew married a Berdoe, it will be remembered, and this Robert Berdoe was a wealthy wholesale ironmonger, who carried on business in Southwark. "You had better leave Eastthorpe, Mr. Catchpole, and take your father with you. Are you in want of any money?" "No, sir, thank you; I have saved a little. I cannot speak very well, Mr. Cardew; you know I cannot; I cannot say to you what I ought."
He said that the meal together was a stolen joy; something he had no right to till after we were married. He said a great many happy, foolish things. As for me, it was a meal in Elysium. All that is long ago, and I am Bawn Cardew, who was Bawn Devereux. We have a boy, dark and fine, like Anthony, and a girl who resembles me. I am still in a bewilderment as to why Anthony should have chosen me.
Dozens of fellows, who have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised when I told them that. Yet it's true. Believe me. In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most pronounced young rotter inside the four-mile radius. People have called me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie.
Cardew at the last moment feeling unequal to the task of parting with their darlings in the presence of their companions. The real parting had taken place the previous night; and that pain which Merry had felt at intervals during the end of the summer vacation was sharp enough to cause her to cry when she lay down to sleep on the night before going to school.
She turned out of her direct road and took that which led past his house swept that way as irresistibly as a mastless hull is swept by the tide. She knew that Mr. Cardew was in the habit of walking out in the afternoon, and she knew the path he usually took. She had not gone far before she met him.
There is a cabman at the door who would have it that he was waiting for a young lady, although I told him no young lady had come in but only a gentleman." "Look and see who it is, Bridget," Captain Cardew answered her. She looked at me in a momentary bewilderment. Then she flung her arms about me. "Why, it must be Miss Bawn," she cried.
"Grant your point, that I'm defeated. All right, I'll be defeated but I won't quit." And Anthony Cardew, confronted by that very quality of obstinacy which had been his own weapon for so many years, retired in high dudgeon to his upper rooms.
But Lucia naturally wanted us to seize the opportunity of two vacancies at Aylmer House, Mrs. Ward's school." "I shall soon begin to hate the name of Mrs. Ward," said Cardew with some asperity. "My cousin spoke most highly of the school," continued Mrs. Cardew.
"I am Caranina, the gipsy girl," said Maggie, dropping another low curtsy, and holding her little tambourine in the most beseeching attitude; "and you are Flora, queen of the flowers." "Well, really, this is entertaining," said Mr. Cardew. "What queer little minxes you all are! And may I really come in and see the fun?" "Indeed you may, dad," said the flower-girl.
Indeed, I could have almost wept, like the child of long ago, on her comfortable breast. And I was hardly vexed that she called Anthony Cardew old. What did it matter, since I loved him, and he would always, always be the finest gentleman in the world to me? I kissed her and left her, promising to come again and to bring Miss Champion with me, and I drove back in the cab to St. Stephen's Green.
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