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"Ah, yes! but that is impossible." He took her hand and turned her gently, so that her face was in the light. "Dear Mees Goneril, why is it impossible?" For a moment the young girl did not answer. She blushed very red, and looked brave. "Because of Jack!" she said. "Ah!" "Nothing is settled," added the young girl, "but it is no use pretending not to know." "It is no use," he repeated, very sadly.
The boy smiled and raised himself on one elbow; his eyes twinkled with good-humoured malice. "My babbo had much better wine than quel signore," he said. "But that is wrong!" cried Goneril, quite shocked. "Who knows?" After this conversation flagged. Goneril tried to imagine what a great musician could be like: long hair, of course; her imagination did not get much beyond the hair.
Lear, King of Britain, had three daughters; Goneril, wife to the Duke of Albany; Regan, wife to the Duke of Cornwall; and Cordelia, a young maid, for whose love the King of France and Duke of Burgundy were joint suitors, and were at this time making stay for that purpose in the court of Lear.
And he cursed his eldest daughter Goneril so as was terrible to hear; praying that she might never have a child, or if she had, that it might live to return that scorn and contempt upon her which she had shown to him that she might feel how sharper than a serpent's tooth it was to have a thankless child.
She received the signorino's gay effusions in ominous silence, and would frown darkly while Madame Petrucci petted her "little bird," as she called Goneril. Once, indeed, Miss Prunty was heard to remark that it was tempting Providence to have dealings with a creature whose very name was a synonym for ingratitude.
But Goneril excused herself, and said, what need of so many as five-and-twenty? or even ten? or five? when he might be waited upon by her servants, or her sister's servants?
Later in the morning Signor Graziano called. "Will you come out with me, Mees Goneril?" he said. "On my land the earliest vintage begins to-day." "Oh, how nice!" she cried. "Come, then," said the signorino, smiling. "Oh, I can't come to-day, because of Jack." "Jack?" "My cousin; he may come at any time." "Your cousin!" The signorino frowned a little.
Out of it came that glance at Ruth, which seemed to me the talon-like hatred that shot from the eyes of Goneril and Regan: and I was sure that if she loved Roscoe there would be mad trouble for him and for the girl. Heretofore she had been passionless, but there was a dormant power in her which had only to be wickedly aroused to wreck her own and others' happiness.
I suppose it is in your family?" asked the old lady. Miss Hamelyn blushed a little, for her niece's name was a sore point with her. "It's an awful name for any Christian woman," said a deep voice at the door. "And pray who's called Goneril?"
The signorino did not pay any attention to the latter part of this description, but he appeared to find the beginning very satisfactory. "So he is only a boy," he muttered to himself, and went away comparatively satisfied. Goneril spent most of the day watching the road from Florence.
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