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I suggested it, because it is the usual ending of such things in novels, and on the stage that is all." "And as if I could fall in love with any one now," Mr. Stuart murmurs, plaintively. "Such a suggestion from you, Laura, is adding insult to injury." "Here comes our baronet," Mrs. Featherbrain exclaims, "bearing a water ice in his own aristocratic hand.
Featherbrain, laughing and panting, "I will take a seat. How cool and comfortable you look, Miss Darrell. May I ask what you have done with Sir Victor?" "Sir Victor left me here, and told me he would go for a water ice. If I look cool, it is more than I feel the thermometer of this room must stand at a hundred in the shade." "A water ice," repeats Mrs.
Now, you dear old love, I'll let you have a whole baronet to yourself, for this night, and who knows what may happen before morning?" Miss Edith Darrell was one of those young persons happily rare who, when they take a strong antipathy, are true to it, even at the sacrifice of their own pleasure. In her secret soul, she was jealous of Mrs. Featherbrain.
"Old Hampson that's his name. Hampson is an Englishman, and from Cheshire, and knew the present Sir Victor's grandfather. He gets the Cheshire papers ever since he left, and, of course, took an interest in all this. He told Mrs. Featherbrain and what do you think? Mrs. Featherbrain actually asked Lady Helena." "It is precisely the sort of thing Mrs. Featherbrain would be likely to do.
Featherbrain gayly exclaims; "the wickedness of New York and the falsity of mankind, are new to her as yet. You saved Charley's life, didn't you, my love? Trixy told me all about it, and remained with him all night in the snow, at the risk of your own life. Quite a romance, upon my word. Now why not end it, like all romances of the kind, in a love match and a marriage?"
Mrs. Featherbrain and Mr. Stuart have been devoted to each other all the evening. "I know the adage," she answers cooly, "but I confess I don't see the application." "What! don't you know Charley's sobriquet of Prince Charley? Why he has been the Prince ever since he was five years old, partly on account of his absurd name, partly because of his absurd grand seigneur airs.
Whereupon my Lady Featherbrain: "Gossip," said she, "'tis not for common talk, but he that I wot of is the Angel Gabriel, who loves me more dearly than himself, for that I am, so he tells me, the fairest lady in all the world, ay, and in the Maremma to boot." Whereat her gossip would fain have laughed, but held herself in, being minded to hear more from her.
Of course you can go at once why should you hesitate it's very kind of you and all that I would escort you there if I could, but unhappily I'm on duty. You'll have no trouble at all finding it." He is perfectly cordial perfectly indifferent. He looks at her as he might look at Mrs. Featherbrain herself. Edith, it is all over for you!
I think it fits don't you?" "And if I were Prince," Charley interposes, before Miss Darrell can answer, "my first royal act would be to order Featherbrain to the deepest dungeon beneath the castle moat, and make his charming relict Princess consort, as she has long, alas! been queen of my affections!" He lays his white-kidded hand on the region of his heart, and bows profoundly. Mrs.
Daddy was feeling ill and depressed; David struck him as an 'impudent varmint, and the doctor as little better; but the lad's solicitude nevertheless flattered the old featherbrain, and in the end he fell into a burst of grandiloquent and self-excusing confidence.
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