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Updated: June 17, 2025
"You have not been told about it; but I will give you its history when we have time, for here are the Eden Gardens," replied Sir Modava. "Not the Garden of Eden?" suggested Mrs. Belgrave. "Only named for it; but it is a very beautiful garden in English style, though the trees and plants are, of course, different.
Belgrave, at the idea of a ten-year-old bridegroom. "Is it possible that this little fellow is married, Sir Modava?" exclaimed the principal lady from Von Blonk Park. "There can be no doubt of it," replied the Hindu gentleman. "But it is hardly in the same sense that marriage takes place in England and America.
Thus a mansion in Belgrave Square ought to mean a corpulent hall-porter, a couple of gigantic footmen, a butler and an under-butler at the very least, if the owner professes to live op to his social dignities. If our house is in Baker or Wimpole street, we must certainly have a manservant in sombre raiment to open our door, with a hobbledehoy or a buttons to run his superior's messages.
Belgrave was so circumspect, so far removed from anything suspicious, and her bearing was so evidently that of a woman of pure character and high ideals that speculation died out after a year or two, and the people gave up the finding out of her history as a thing impossible of achievement.
Pritchard, bending over the fire, putting the last touch to one of those miraculous soufflets, compact of clouds and nectar, which transport alike palate and fancy, at the first mouthful, from Snowdon to Belgrave Square.
Belgrave, who was strongly tempted to kiss the little fellow; but she was afraid it would not be in order, and she refrained. "I am ten years old, madam," replied Dinshaw, with the sweetest of smiles. "And you have been married this evening, sahib?" continued the lady.
"This is the Dasasvamedh Ghat," said Sir Modava, with a smile. "I thought you might wish to recall it after you get home to America. I think it is rather pleasant to know the names of places one has visited." "We could not speak the word now without an hour's practice, and I am sure not one of us will know it when we get to the other side of the Atlantic," said Mrs. Belgrave.
Have you become so accustomed to married life that you are ready to leave your wife on shore while you wander over the ocean again?" asked the visitor in a good-humored, rallying tone. "Not a bit of it, my dear Captain. My wife is worth more to me than all the money she brought me, though she is as much of a millionaire as young Mr. Belgrave, we find.
Greyne's ecstasy when, upon the inhospitable African shore where he was now enduring such tragic misfortunes, he perceived the majestic form of his loved one his loved one whom he believed to be in Belgrave Square coming towards him to soothe, to comfort, to direct. She brushed away a tear. "Go, Mrs. Forbes," she said. And Mrs. Forbes retired, smiling.
Belgrave was tugging at the sleeve of her friend in order to suppress her. "I venture to say you have used something of the kind, madame. Our women make it of Irish moss, and use it to stiffen the hair, so as to make it lie in the right place. "I must not forget the bamboo, which is found all over India, and even 12,000 feet up the mountains.
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