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Lady Edith laughed an unseemly little laugh unseemly, since filial regret at paternal obliquity should have restrained it. "Papa, you are quite horrible," she said. "You ought not to make your few daughters laugh at improper things." "I would make my daughters laugh at anything so long as I must doom them to Stone Hover and Lady Pevensy and Mrs.
"The Earl of Pevensy at Pevensy Park, the Duke of Stone at Stone Hover, Lord Hambrough at Doone. Doone is in the next county, just over the border." "Have they all got daughters?" Captain Palliser found it expedient to clear his throat before speaking. "Lord Pevensy has daughters, so has the duke. Lord Hambrough has three sons." "How many daughters are there in a bunch?" Mr.
Temple Barholm. "Clear the way when I start." This was New York phrasing, and was plainly humorous; but there was something more than humor in his eye and smile something hinting distantly at recollection. "You'll find them at Pevensy Park," said Palliser. "What about Lady Joan Fayre?" was the next inquiry. Palliser's side glance at him was observant indeed.
Palliser as a little sunbeam brightening the pathway of T. Tembarom, was, in the particular existing circumstances, all that could be desired of fine humor. It somewhat recalled the situation of the "Ladies" of the noble houses of Pevensy, Talchester, and Stone unconsciously passing in review for the satisfaction of little Miss Hutchinson.
'In a bunch' there are eight: Lady Alice, Lady Edith, Lady Ethel, and Lady Celia at Stone Hover; Lady Beatrice, Lady Gwynedd, Lady Honora, and Lady Gwendolen at Pevensy Park. And not a fortune among them, poor girls!" "It's not the money that matters so much," said the astounding foreigner, "it's the titles." Captain Palliser stopped short in the garden path for a moment.
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