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I daresay I should go to sleep again, if I went on with my novel." "Is it really as dull as that?" "Dull?" Mrs. Presty repeated. "You are evidently not aware of what the new school of novel writing is doing. The new school provides the public with soothing fiction." "Are you speaking seriously, mamma?" "Seriously, Catherine and gratefully. These new writers are so good to old women.
Presty had not very seriously exaggerated the truth, when she described her much-indulged granddaughter as "a child who had never been accustomed to wait for anything since the day when she was born." Governesses in general would have found it no easy matter to produce a favorable impression on Kitty, and to exert the necessary authority in instructing her, at the same time. Mr. and Mrs.
Presty looked at her daughter in silent surprise. There could be no doubt about it; Mrs. Linley failed entirely to see any possibilities of future danger in the grateful feeling of her sensitive governess toward her handsome husband. At this exhibition of simplicity, the old lady's last reserves of endurance gave way: she rose to go.
Presty took Sydney's arm, and led her down to breakfast with motherly familiarity. Linley met them at the foot of the stairs. His mother-in-law first stole a look at Sydney, and then shook hands with him cordially. "My dear Herbert, how pale you are! That horrid smoking. You look as if you had been up all night." Mrs. Linley paid her customary visit to the schoolroom that morning.
Presty took the telegram from her daughter and read extracts from it with indignant emphasis of voice and manner. "Travels in the same train with him. Very young, and very inexperienced. And he sympathizes with her. Ha! I know the men, Catherine I know the men!" Mr. Herbert Linley arrived at his own house in the forenoon of the next day. Mrs.
When I established myself in this hotel, I was fairly driven out of my yacht by a guest who went sailing with me." Mrs. Presty became deeply interested. "Dear me, what did he do?" Captain Bennydeck answered gravely: "He snored." Catherine was amused; Mrs. Presty burst out laughing; the Captain's dry humor asserted itself as quaintly as ever.
Here again there was nothing to see but an empty room. Where was Miss Westerfield? Was it within the limits of probability that she had been bold enough to join the party in the smoking-room? The bare idea was absurd. In another minute, nevertheless, Mrs. Presty was at the door, listening. The men's voices were loud: they were talking politics.
"That proverb must have been originally intended to apply to children. May I presume to make you the subject of a guess? I fancy you are not a married man." The Captain looked a little surprised. "You are quite right," he said; "I have never been married." At a later period, Mrs. Presty owned that she felt an inclination to reward him for confessing himself to be a bachelor, by a kiss.
In an hour more we were ready to embark, and the blessed fog was thicker than ever. Mrs. Presty yielded under protest; Kitty was wild with delight; her mother was quiet and resigned. But one circumstance occurred that I didn't quite understand the presence of a stranger on the pier with a gun in his hand." "You don't mean one of the spies?" "Nothing of the sort; I mean an idea of the gardener's.
"Does she submit to your telling Kitty that her father is dead?" For the first time Mrs. Presty became serious. "Wait a minute," she answered. "Before I consented to answer the child's inquiries, I came to an understanding with her mother. I said, 'Will you let Kitty see her father again?" The very question which Randal had promised to ask in his brother's interests!
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