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This arrangement was partly thrown over by circumstances, as Sir Griffin was pleased to leave Portray two days before the others and to travel by himself. There was a bitter quarrel between Lucinda and her lover, and it was understood afterwards by Lady Eustace that Sir Griffin had had a few words with Lord George; but what those few words were, she never quite knew.
"So, miss, you've took him?" said the joint Abigail of the Carbuncle establishment that evening to the younger of her two mistresses. Mrs. Carbuncle had resolved that the thing should be quite public. "Just remember this," replied Lucinda, "I don't want to have a word said to me on the subject." "Only just to wish you joy, miss." Lucinda turned round with a flash of anger at the girl.
There was nothing which Mrs. Carbuncle would not endure from Sir Griffin, just at present; and, on behalf of Mrs. Carbuncle, even Lizzie was long-suffering. It cannot, however, be said that this Petruchio had as yet tamed his own peculiar shrew. Lucinda was as savage as ever, and would snap and snarl, and almost bite. Sir Griffin would snarl too, and say very bearish things.
But there were already two men in the water, and three on the bank, and Sir Griffin thought that duty required him to stay by the young lady's side. "I don't care a bit about myself," said Lucinda, "but if anything can be done for poor Warrior!"
One by one the others followed, and Miss Lucinda could not distinguish them as they merged in the laughing crowd at the base. Delay was fatal; they would lose her again if she hesitated. In desperation she gathered her skirts about her, and let herself cautiously down on the floor.
Arethusa accepted this as she accepted all things, unpacked, saw Lucinda off, assumed charge of the house, and then dragged a rocking chair to her aunt’s bedside and unfolded her sewing. Ere she had threaded her needle Aunt Mary was sound asleep, and so her niece sewed placidly for an hour or more, until, like lightning out of a clear sky: "Arethusa!"
But the salad and the coffee! And see, you have not touched your wine." "Take me back," she said, her voice low. "I hate you. Till the end of the world I'll hate you." "If I could believe that, Helena, it would matter nothing to me to go a mile farther on any voyage, a foot farther to shield myself or you." "Take me back," she said to me again. "I want to go to Aunt Lucinda."
He's what Grandmother calls a 'dyed in the wool Presbyterian." She sighed, regretful of Mr. Blake's lost opportunities. "Cheer up! You don't have to listen to him often," Annabel said consolingly. "No, that's true. But think of Grandmother and Aunt Lucinda! They've been listening to him for most twenty years." "Oh, well, 'habit's a cable," Annabel quoted glibly.
Molyneux's maid, who, of course, repeated it all directly and made Lucinda nervous. She is a most troublesome, mischievous old woman." "But she can cook. Pray what are we to do for dinner?" "I am sure I don't know. I never knew anything so unlucky as it all is, and Lucinda looking so ill." "Well, you had better send for the doctor." "She won't hear of it.
Oh, if I were marrying a poor man, and a poor friend had given me a gridiron to help me to cook my husband's dinner, how I could have valued it!" "I don't know that you like poor things and poor people better than anybody else," said Aunt Jane. "I don't like anything or anybody," said Lucinda. "You had better take the good things that come to you, then; and not grumble.
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