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Updated: May 6, 2025
One day, it was after the battle of Balaklava, when shuddering over, in the Times, the ghastly "butcher's bill," Bluebell came upon Du Meresq's name among the killed, and the shock to nerves that had scarcely yet recovered their equilibrium nearly brought on a relapse of her former illness.
If there is a deficiency of gentlemen, space, supper, or ton, the latter; but given these indispensables, you may have been jilted for your bosom friend by your latest conquest, yet you must come up smiling, and endorse the public panegyric on the hated evening till the subject be superseded. Bluebell, a few weeks ago, would have looked upon this ball as the acme of delight.
The old Dutch clock ticked louder than ever, and, as usual, recorded the quarters with an internal convulsion. At half-past nine the boys would go to school, and, in the commotion of their departure, Bluebell resolved to pass from the threshold and go forth to her fate. She got her hat, unnoticed and unquestioned was in the street, and groping her way through the fog with swift, unsteady steps.
He loitered outside the shed, sniffing at the smoke from burning leaves the scent of autumn and migration and wanderlust. He glanced down between houses to the reedy shore of Joralemon Lake. The surface of the water was smooth, and tinted like a bluebell, save for one patch in the current where wavelets leaped with October madness in sparkles of diamond fire.
Through the boughs of beeches and elms and firs the young day flickered gold, so that the bluebell patches were half lit, like blue water in the sun, half grey, like water at twilight. Between two great waves of them a brown path ran steeply down to a deep little stream. Neville and Esau, scrambling a little way upstream, stopped at a broad swirling pool it made between rocks.
"My anxiety to see your new companion." "Whose existence, I suppose, you have just heard of." "It has been my loss," retorted he. "Fascinating young creature! The name Bluebell just describes those wild hyacinth eyes." "Oh! Bertie," said his sister and Cecil together, "how absurd you are about girls." "And then," persisted he, "that charming tawny hair and milk white skin."
"Oh, do, pray, or let me!" "Now, my dear Bluebell, haven't we just agreed the fewer people who know it the better? You say you left a letter telling him you were to be married, and it is no further business of his. Besides, he is a suspicious old nuisance, and would very likely come boring down here; and then I should be sure to quarrel with him. Come along, put on your hat, and let us go out."
The eight o'clock breakfast bell rang, and Bluebell came down with a white, scared face and dark rims to her eyes. The captain appeared unobservant. To tell the truth, the stolen kiss, which he probably considered "naughty, but nice," had made him somewhat conscious. So he looked demure and rather sly; but the girl had forgotten the circumstance.
There was a slight sound of a rapid, stealthy footstep, and, before she had time to look round, a twisted note was tossed into her lap. Bluebell started to her feet. Her heart gave one great jump, and her cheeks were blanched. She rushed to the door. Too late, the passage was empty.
"Stupid thing; what did she jump over for? I was nearly suffocated. I am sure there must have been a cast of me on the snow." "It wasn't altogether unpleasant," said Jack. "We were covered up very snug and warm, like babes in the wood. I shouldn't mind doing it again in the same company." "Shouldn't you?" said Bluebell, indignantly. "Then you may omit the company."
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