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Altogether she made a very effective picture. In another puffy rocking-chair near, sat Trixy, her chestnut hair crepe to her eyebrows and falling in a crinkling shower down to her waist. Her voluminous draperies balloon over the carpet for the space of a couple of yards on either side, and she looked from top to toe the "New Yorkiest of New York girls."
I spoke to her that night in Killarney I did not mention your name, but she understood me immediately. I told her I meant to speak as soon as we reached England. I asked her if she thought there was hope for me, and she " The passionate eagerness, the passionate love and fear within him checked his words suddenly. He stopped for a moment, and turned away. "O Trixy!
And then her father narrated the discovery they had mutually made. Miss Dithy opened her bright brown eyes. "Like a chapter out of a novel where everybody turns out to be somebody else. 'It is it is it is my own, my long-lost son! And so we're second cousins, and you're Charley Stuart; and Trixy now who's Trixy?" "Trixy's my sister. How do you happen to know anything about her?"
At this instant he heard a soft whinny behind him. Twisting himself around, he saw Trixy lying some twenty feet away, with her forelegs doubled up beneath her, and her head lifted and pointed toward him. He studied the little mare a moment. "Trixy! Get up!" he commanded suspiciously. She lifted her head higher, made a desperate effort to rise, sank back, and whinnied piteously. "So! Yours too, eh!
"You always were the soul of generosity, Trixy, but why the victoria?" "My dear Lula," he replied, "if there's any other carriage you prefer ?" Honora did not hear the answer, which at any rate was scarcely audible. She moved away, and her eyes continued to follow Vercingetorix as he trotted about the tan-bark after a groom. And presently she was aware that Trixton Brent was standing beside her.
"We were talking about children," replied Honora, innocently. "Children!" "Yes," said Honora, "and your husband has promised to take me up to the nursery." "And did you talk to Trixy about children, too?" cried Lily, laughing, with a mischievous glance at Mrs. Chandos. "Is he interested in them?" asked Honora. "You dear!" cried Lily, "you'll be the death of me.
Trixy loves her as dearly, as warmly as she had ever done she hugs, she kisses, she exclaims at sight of her, in a perfect rapture of joy: "O darling!" she cries, "how good it is to see you again! what a surprise is this! Charley, where are you? look here! Don't you know Edith?"
From self-indulgence to self-denial even though inspired by terror is a far cry. And Trixton Brent had evidently prepared his menu with a satanic purpose. "What! No entree, Lula? I had that sauce especially for you." "Oh, Trixy, did you really? How sweet of you!" And her liquid eyes regarded, with an almost equal affection, first the master and then the dish.
She sat reading, while the afternoon wore on, and Trixy fussed and fluttered about the room. "Afraid of the people who are coming here to-night is that what you mean? Not a whit! I know as well as you do, they are coming to inspect and find fault with Sir Victor Catheron's choice, to pity him, and call me an adventuress.
I shouldn't wonder now, but that it is to select a wife for you, and a husband for Trixy, he is taking this projected trip to Europe." "Shouldn't you? Neither should I. Never wonder. Against my principles," Charley murmurs. "There are plenty of titled aristocracy abroad so I am told ready to silver-gild their coronets by a union with plutocracy.
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