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Updated: June 19, 2025
And this struggle soon manifested itself in a series of inconsistencies of conduct that were perfectly incomprehensible to both Lyon Berners and Rosa Blondelle. For instance, on this first night at home, while they sat at the supper-table. Sybil was silent, abstracted, and depressed. Her companions mentally ascribed her condition to fatigue; but Sybil then scarcely knew what fatigue meant.
And yet, under and over and through all this, the husband loved his wife as he never did or could love any other woman. But Rosa Blondelle was one of those vain and shallow women who must and will have a sentimental flirtation or a platonic friendship with some man or boy, always on hand. She, like those of her mischievous class, really meant no harm, while doing a great deal of wrong.
Berners turned smilingly to Mrs. Blondelle, and said: "I know of few pleasanter things in this pleasant world than a journey through our native State of Virginia, taken at this delightful season of the year; and of all routes I know of none affording such a variety of beautiful and sublime scenery as this we are now starting upon."
"Oh, do not name him to me!" burst forth in pain from the lips of Rosa Blondelle; "oh, I hope, as long as I may live in this world, never to be wounded by the sound of his base name, or blasted with the sight of his false face again." Sybil Berners shrank in dismay from the excited woman, who continued, vehemently: "Do you wonder at this?
They were not all burned up. Some few had fallen scorched upon the hearth. These he gathered up and examined; and as he looked at one after another, his face expressed, in turn, surprise, dismay, and amusement. Then he burst out laughing. He really could not help doing so, serious as the subject was; for upon every single card, instead of Rosa Blondelle, he had written: Mrs.
"How long will it take you to reach your beautiful home?" sweetly inquired Rosa Blondelle. "We might reach it in two days, if we were to travel day and night; but we shall be four days on the road, as we propose to put up at some roadside inn or village each night," answered Lyon Berners.
I will, with your permission, go up to my own room by these stairs; and when I have changed my dress, I will come down the same way and take you in to supper," said Sybil, as, with a smile and a bow, she opened the door and slipped away up to her own room. Rosa Blondelle passed into the little adjoining nursery, to see after her child.
"But if you had met her before you had ever seen me, you would have loved and married her." "No! On my honor, Sybil!" "Yet you admire her so much!" "Dear Sybil! I admire all things beautiful in nature and art, but I don't want to marry all!" "And are you sure that this beautiful Rosa Blondelle would not make you a more suitable companion than I do?" she inquired. His whole manner now changed.
"Very well, now come help me to dress." Janet hastened to obey, and in half an hour Rosa Blondelle issued from her chamber, looking if possible even more beautiful than she had looked on the previous evening; for she wore an elegant morning robe of white cashmere, embroidered down the front and around the bodice, sleeves, and skirt with a border of blue bells, and she had her splendid hair dressed in the simple natural ringlets that were the most becoming to her.
She is your friend, and would do you only good." Rosa Blondelle slowly shook her head, murmuring: "No, Lyon, your wife is not my friend she is my deadly enemy. She is fiercely jealous of your affection for me, though it is the only happiness of my unhappy life. And she will make you throw me off yet." "Never! no one, not even my wife, shall ever do that! I swear it by all my hopes of "
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