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With an air of exaggerated courtesy Dalton led him up and introduced him. "Mrs. Bonnivel, Miss Lavillotte, let me present Mr. Murfree, well known of all in Littleton because of his eloquence. I'm sure he will be glad to take you out to supper, and give you his latest views on well, say anarchy." The man winced a little, and his florid face took on an added color.
She found that riches set one out from the crowd as does the search-light which cannot be dodged nor dimmed, and sometimes she would have flung every dollar away, and given up all her pet schemes, just to have crept into the safe shelter of the Bonnivel home as a real child of that house, to become as happily obscure as Dorette, or Camille.
Barrington, one day, a real banking institution was incorporated, with the stock issued in dollar shares. Mr. Barrington, as president, headed the list of stockholders with a hundred, Miss Lavillotte following with seventy-five, while Mr. Dalton, Madame Bonnivel, and Larry Driscoll were all down for fifty, or less.
In close proximity stood Dorette, and by Dr. Browne's side, in his shambling old buggy, sat Madame Bonnivel, directing the demonstrations of Dodo, on her lap. Nate looked at Lucy an instant. "Say, child," he said in a hesitant tone, "it's a shame to think I'm nobody but just Nate, when they've made such a fuss! Be we goin' to git married, or ain't we?
"Will the honorable householder dismiss my coachman, then?" and as, with an exaggerated bow and flourish, he disappeared to execute the commission, she turned swiftly upon Madame Bonnivel. "Ma mère, aren't you paler than you should be? What is the matter?" "I've had just a trifle of a headache, chèrie, nothing worth mentioning." "I don't like those headaches do see Dodo!
Larry had caught Joyce's hand, and was pumping it up and down somewhat wildly, while his lips quivered under his mustache; Madame Bonnivel had a trembling grasp upon the other hand, while Dorette and Camille were each kissing an ear, or an eye they could not see for tears and did not care anyhow, so long as it was a bit of Joyce.
Even Madame Bonnivel joined in his hearty laugh, now, and poor Joyce, to hide her burning cheeks, broke out, "Come, Camille, where's your mandolin? I haven't heard you play for an age. 'Do let's play and be cheerful!" "Just what Leon always used to say! All right, I'll give you my last serenade; it's awfully sweet. Turn down the lights, Larry.
I will go out and send Gilbert home, then. He has waited for me so patiently all the morning. Dear Mother Bonnivel, is it wicked that I can't be sad and regretful, but that the freedom is so sweet so sweet?" "It is natural at least, my love. Go and dismiss Gilbert until to-morrow morning. It will be too late for your long ride home after our seven o'clock dinner. Then hurry back.
But she began tamely enough. "I saw something in the paper the other day that I want to ask about. Is it your house here that is advertised for sale?" Madame Bonnivel nodded, and Dorette answered, "Yes, isn't it too bad? The owner has died and the estate is to be turned into money wherever possible.
He seemed gathering himself, together, and after a short interval of silence, during which she pretended to be absorbed in the crowd which was streaming through the door, he said in a low, husky voice: "Say 'm, if you don't mind, and seeing's your ma is right here" he referred to Madame Bonnivel who was slowly approaching on Mr.
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