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Updated: May 14, 2025
He opened the letter at the breakfast table, and was advised by his cousin to accept. "Mrs. Wilson," she commented, "is like a banjo, more exciting than refined, but she isn't bad-hearted. She has the old Boston blood and traditions behind her." "They are sometimes rather far behind," interpolated Mr. Staggchase dryly. "She wasn't a Beauchester, you know.
It was, perhaps, in virtue of her Beauchester blood, for instance, that she made the somewhat singular selection of guests brought together at a luncheon which she gave in honor of Miss Frances Merrivale when that young lady came to pay her a visit, at the conclusion of her stay with Mrs. Amanda Welsh Sampson.
As she put her hand upon the Oran rug to lift it, she raised her eyes and met his glance. The blood rushed into their faces. They remembered their parting embrace and the burning kisses of long ago. "Good-by," she said, and even before he could answer her she had gone out swiftly. AS FALSE AS STAIRS OF SAND. Merchant of Venice; v. 2. The fact that her mother was a Beauchester Mrs.
Staggchase, for all her Beauchester blood, had a good deal of sympathy for the girl who was defying her family in receiving the attentions of a man of no antecedents, although, having done the same thing herself, she was the more strongly bound outwardly to discountenance any such insubordination.
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