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It was in truth a dull, guide-booky epistle, all about stupid "places of interest" in the neighbourhood, in which Darsie was frankly uninterested. All the Roman remains in the world could not have counted at that moment against one little word of friendly regret, but that word was not forthcoming, and the effect of the missive was depressing, rather than the reverse.
Darsie was compelled to acquiesce, sufficiently aware that his uncle would permit him no interview with a friend whose influence would certainly be used against his present earnest wishes, and in some measure contented with the assurance of Fairford's personal safety. In this room they found Alan Fairford and the Quaker, apparently in deep conversation with each other.
"But you will want to say goodbye to your friends, dear; you will have little arrangements to make..." Mrs Garnett was all nervousness and anxiety to appease, but after the manner of victims Darsie felt a perverse satisfaction in rejecting overtures, even when by so doing she doubly punished herself. "I don't mean to say goodbye. I don't wish to see any one before I go. I hate scenes."
For a moment Darsie stared blankly, then a flash of intuition revealed the meaning of the word. "Modern languages." "Good! So'm I. And your friend?" "Mathematics." "Humph! Well, good luck! I'm off to bed. We shall meet on the Rialto!" She smiled, nodded, and was gone. With a sudden realisation of their own fatigue the Freshers turned to follow her example.
Darsie was one of the last guests to arrive upon the final scene of the treasure hunt, and already the merry process of parcel opening had begun. The young girl who had captured three prizes was on her knees before a garden seat, laying them out in a row to be seen and admired of all.
It isn't as if I had to go in for a profession or anything of that kind. I shall spend my life looking after the property, and there's no particular need to swot for that." "I hate loafers," said Darsie in her turn, then once more relented and said genially, "But I don't believe you mean half that you say.
They pretend to trace this fatality to a legendary history, which I may tell you at a less busy moment. Darsie intimated that he had already heard the tragic story of Sir Alberick Redgauntlet. 'I need only say, then, proceeded Lilias, 'that our father and uncle felt the family doom in its full extent.
Whether or no any such embellishment did take place history sayeth not, but it is certain that Darsie Garnett made a very charming picture on the following Sunday afternoon, and that her dainty style of beauty showed to peculiar advantage against the oak panelling of the stately old room in which the head of College and his gracious, fragile- looking wife dispensed tea to their guests.
Darsie stretched out her hand, found the chilly one of the poor mother, and leaning her soft cheek over it, pressed it tenderly with her lips. "You must let me be your third daughter! We can talk about him together. I can tell you about this last year every little tiny thing that he said and did. You'll never be anxious about him any more, dear, never afraid!
I never in my life saw him, until I came unhappily to this country, about four weeks since. 'Aye, sir we eh know, and are aware that poof you do not like to hear some folk's names; and that eh you understand me there are things, and sounds, and matters, conversation about names, and suchlike, which put you off the hooks which I have no humour to witness. Nevertheless, Mr. Darsie or poof Mr.
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