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She could not believe it without further proof. "You don't I don't suppose you LOVE me?" panted Rebecca Mary. But Aunt Olivia was gone out of the room in a swirl of white nightgown. "Everything's on the table," she called back from the stairs. "I'm going to light a fire. You come right down. I think it's high time " her voice trailing out thinly.
"I shouldn't think you were old enough to be a bridesmaid," said Felicity sharply. "I'm nearly fifteen. Anyway, Aunt Olivia says I have to be." "Who's she going to marry?" asked Cecily, gathering herself together after the shock, and finding that the world was going on just the same. "His name is Dr. Seton and he is a Halifax man. She met him when she was at Uncle Edward's last summer.
Apparently no one wished to go anywhere in particular; or, if they did, they were not sufficiently eager to feel called upon to mention the fact. At length Lady Olivia looked up. "Has nobody a suggestion to make?" she asked, with a smile. "Then I will make one that I think will be sympathetically received by at least one of us yourself, my dear Feodorovna.
He shall ha' um! He shall ha' um! His boisterous joy at this rare thought, which was indeed far beyond the discovery of his own brain, could not be appeased; nor could Olivia, sorry for what she had done, prevent him from most resolutely determining to put it in practice.
"Only think, Carry," said Olivia, when they were alone that evening, "if you were to become the wife of an English lord!" Nora Rowley, when she escaped from the violence of her lover, at once rushed up to her own room, and managed to fasten herself in before she had been seen by any one.
Proudie, and the intercourse had become close and confidential. Having been thus familiarly thrown among the Misses Proudie, it was no more than natural that some softer feeling than friendship should be engendered. There have been some passages of love between him and the eldest hope, Olivia, but they have hitherto resulted in no favourable arrangement. In truth, Mr.
I find it impossible to make Olivia happy. She has superior talents, accomplishments, beauty, grace, all that can attract and fascinate the human heart that could triumph over every feeling, every principle that opposed her power: she lives with the man she loves, and yet she is miserable.
Seriously, Lady Olivia had left Paris before I arrived, therefore you cannot have my judgment of her ladyship, which I presume is all you could depend upon. If you will take hearsay evidence, and if you wish me to speak to general character, I can readily satisfy you.
And the Story Girl had genius. As we left the orchard I walked along behind Uncle Roger and Aunt Olivia. "That was an uncanny exhibition for a girl of fourteen, you know, Roger," said Aunt Olivia musingly. "What is in store for that child?" "Fame," said Uncle Roger. "If she ever has a chance, that is, and I suppose her father will see to that. At least, I hope he will.
Olivia, curious to see who this peremptory messenger might be, desired he might be admitted; and throwing her veil over her face, she said she would once more hear Orsino's embassy, not doubting but that he came from the duke, by his importunity.
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