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When Conny emerged at the end of the hour in street costume, the frown had disappeared, but her fair face wore a preoccupied air. "Hello, Tom!" she said wanly to Cairy, who was dawdling over the paper in the library. "How is it out?" "Warm, a perfect day!" Cairy replied, smiling at her and jumping to his feet. "Is the cab there?" "Yes, shall we start?"
'You see, said Mary gently, 'I should like nothing better than to have dear little Conny to live with me like a daughter, but, for one thing, it would not be fair towards Ida, and besides, it would not be good for her in case she did not marry to have wasted these years. Mrs. Morton by no means appreciated the argument.
Monsieur le Cury, song cure est touchy j'ang suis sure Je conny cela biang Ally Monsieur Smirke." Thus it was, that when Major Pendennis announced to his nephew's tutor that the young fellow would go to College in October, and that Mr.
"I wonder if he's right about it all," said Isabelle; "if we are just machines, with a need to be oiled now and then, to take this drug or that? Is it all as simple as he makes out? All just autointoxication, chemistry, and delusion?" "You're ill, that's why you doubt," Conny replied with tranquil positiveness.
But Conny knew her material; out of such as Percy, corporation lawyers those gross feeders at the public trough were not made. Woodyard was a man of fine fibre, rather unaggressive. He must either be steered into a shady pool of legal sinecure, or take the more dangerous course through the rapids of public life. It was the moment of Reform.
"She is good to behold," he observed, helping himself to whiskey. "Not your kind, Tommy!" Conny warned with a laugh. "The Prices are very good people. You'll find that Isabelle will keep you at the proper distance." Cairy yawned as if the topic did not touch him. "I thought you were going to Manon with the Hillyers." "I was, but I came home instead!" Conny replied softly, and their eyes met.
"Yes!" the Southerner remarked with scornful emphasis ... "I shall harness myself once more to the car of triumphant prosperity, and stretch forth my hungry hands to catch the grains that dribble in the rear. Compromise! Compromise! All is Compromise!" "Now you are literary again," Conny pronounced severely. "Your play wasn't a success, there was no compromise about that!
Even the vicar was roused out of his usual placidity, although Uncle Jack's letter from Valparaiso had told all about the wonderful escape of the survivors of the Greenock; while, as for Miss Conny, who was now a perfectly grown-up young lady of eighteen, all her sedateness was gone for the moment and she was every bit as wild as the rest.
"Because you like it," declared Lilias disdainfully; "you happen to be a clever sewer, and you are fond of having your fingers busy and astonishing everybody besides, you admire embroidery in muslin and cloth; and even your pocket-money what with gowns and bonnets, tickets to oratorios and concerts, and promenades, and 'the kid shoes and perfumery, which are papa's old-fashioned summing up of our expenses, bouquets and fresh gloves would be nearer the truth won't always meet the claims upon your gold and silver showers; and Susan," added Lilias, not to be cheated out of her diatribe, and starting with new alacrity, "practising attitudes and looking at her hands; and Conny reading her trashy romances."
"And Aline isn't happy," Isabelle remarked; "she has a look on her face as if she were a thousand miles away, and had forgotten her marriage as much as she could. Her chairs and tables are just ways of forgetting." "But they have something to think about, those two. They don't vegetate." "I should say they had, but no anarchy in my domestic circle, thank you!" Conny observed.
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