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Gholson had told her he "suspicioned as much." At once there arose the prettiest clamor all round the board, in which Charlotte and Cecile joined for the obvious purpose of making confusion.
Later on, upstairs again, she even herself felt still more the force of the limit of which she had just reminded him; at tea, in Charlotte's affirmed presence as Charlotte affirmed it she drew a long breath of richer relief. It was the strangest, once more, of all impressions; but what she most felt, for the half-hour, was that Mr. and Mrs. Verver were making the occasion easy.
She blushed once at finding that she had called him Bertie and, on the same day, only barely remembered her position in time to check herself from playing upon him some personal practical joke to which she was instigated by Charlotte. In all this Eleanor was perfectly innocent, and Bertie Stanhope could hardly be called guilty.
Till far on in the lifetime of Queen Charlotte the fashion in women's wear oscillated from one extreme to another, the gracious of to-day becoming the grotesque of yesterday, and mode succeeding mode with the confusion and fascination of a masquerade. The men were no less remarkable than the women for the clothes they wore, no less capricious in their changes.
"Charlotte rusks an' lemming turnover!" she announced, searching his face for some sign of joy, her own face lighting up perceptibly. "Well, this is a treat!" cried out Johnson between sips of coffee. "Have one?" "You bet!" he returned with unmistakable pleasure in his voice. The Girl served him with one of each, and when he thanked her she beamed with happiness.
John's, which he had achieved, with others, after so much walking around the walls, seemed remote. And he reflected with satisfaction upon the fact that his wife, who was his prime minister, would be home from the East that day. Two heads were better than one, especially if one of the two were Charlotte Gore's. And Mr.
Quicker than a flash Charlotte had gone through a series of motions and had made a second exposure, smiling delightedly to herself. "It's a gentleman to see you," called Miss Austin, softly, as the heavily built figure in the dust-coat opened the gate and advanced up the path.
She never could quite understand how so good a man as Brother Harper could lend it countenance. When she was young the girls of her time were reading Hannah More. And there was Mrs. Chapone's letters, and now Charlotte Elizabeth and Mrs. Sigourney. "Did you know Hannah More wrote a novel?" inquired John, with a half smile of his father's humor. "And Mrs. Barbauld and Mrs.
Gaskell knew; and when it came to vindicating Charlotte, she considered herself justified in exposing Charlotte's brother because Charlotte herself had shown her the way. But Charlotte might have spared her pains. Branwell does not account for Heathcliff any more than he accounts for Rochester. He does not even account for Huntingdon in poor Anne's novel. He accounts only for himself.
"He's in quite a nice, natural slumber. If nursing could only bring him round!" "I'd nurse him all my life for that matter," replied Lubin huskily, standing on the other side of the bed. "I know you would, Lubin," cried Aunt Charlotte. "You've been goodness itself to my poor darling. What wouldn't I do what wouldn't we all do to save his precious life!"
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