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She had, he thought, every virtue that a mother could have, and she combined them with a gaiety of spirit that made her take her virtues as if they were the most delightful amusements. It was of this gaiety that he had first thought until Mathilde had pointed out to him that there was tragedy in the situation. "What will your mother do without you?" the girl kept saying.
Leuillet was very much attached to him, but thought he was somewhat of a simpleton. He would often remark: "That poor Souris who will never set the world on fire." When Souris married Miss Mathilde Duval, Leuillet was astonished and somewhat annoyed, as he was slightly devoted to her, himself.
That is over, and we will not say any more about it; but if I catch them again by G , if I catch them again, I will make them lose all taste for such nonsense, Maitre Cacheux, as sure as my name is Severin." When M. Antoine Leuillet married the widow, Madame Mathilde Souris, he had already been in love with her for ten years. M. Souris has been his friend, his old college chum.
She was still under the spell of his superiority, but perhaps she would come to judge him too. She had learned much from him. Perhaps she had learned all he had to teach her. Her face looked as if it were carved out of some smooth white stone. After she had gone up-stairs, Mathilde went down again to telephone Pete that she had made her decision.
"It is only fair that you should understand, Mathilde. I am going away alone. I am not coming back." The maid's eyes filled with sudden tears. "Oh, madame," she cried, in a burst of loyalty, "if madame will permit me to stay with her!" Honora was troubled, but her strange calmness did not forsake her. The morning was spent in packing, which was a simple matter.
One morning, when the wind dashed the snow against her windows, she found it impossible to rise. If the big doctor suspected the cause of her illness, Mathilde knew it. The maid tended her day and night, and sought, with the tact of her nation, to console and reassure her. The little woman next door came and sat by her bedside.
And a glance at her wild eyes almost testified she spoke the truth. "She is not stolen, she is safe enough," said the baron, sulkily. "Safe? Where? Where? Take me to her, my precious one; where is she?" cried the baroness, with a loud burst of hysteric laughter on hearing her child was safe. "Silence, Mathilde, don't behave in this ridiculous style.
"It's out of the question," he said, "that you should take this child to China at two weeks' notice. You must see that." "I see perfectly that many people will think it so. But you must see that to us it is the inevitable thing to do." "If every one else agreed, I should oppose it." "O Grandfather!" wailed Mathilde. "And you were our great hope you and Mrs. Wayne!"
The marine saluted and walked off. Mathilde had awakened. "What are you doing?" She slipped out of bed and hurried to him. "A letter," he answered. He allowed her to help him back to his pillow. Reclining again, his dizziness grew less. "I'll read it for you," she said. "No. Von Stinnes...." "It may be important." "I'll be able to read in a moment."
"Well, Mathilde," said Farron, "as a reader of the human heart, I want to tell you that I approve of the young man. He has a fine, delicate touch on life, which, I am inclined to think, goes only with a good deal of strength." Mathilde blinked her eyes. Gratitude and delight had brought tears to them. "He thinks you're wonderful, Mr. Farron," she answered a little huskily.
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