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Updated: June 9, 2025
On this occasion Miss Cronin was as usual in the house, and begged that Mr. Braybrooke would come up. He found her in an arm-chair she had just vacated a large sofa with Bourget's "Le Disciple" in her hand. Her eyebrows were rather dim, for she had caught a slight London cold which had led her to neglect them. But she was looking mildly cheerful, and was very glad to have a visitor.
"To me a Catholic woman seems doubly enchanting." "You would not marry a woman who wasn't a Catholic?" "No, indeed," the Englishman proclaimed. Caesar and Kennedy disagreed about everything. Susanna discussed her plans, and constantly referred to Paul Bourget's novel Cosmopolis, which had obviously influenced her in her inclination for Catholicism.
It was in 1897 that he lodged here with that worthy trio: Gibbon, Lenormant and Cassiodorus. The chapters devoted to Cotrone are the most lively and characteristic in his "Ionian Sea." Strangely does the description of his arrival in the town, and his reception in the "Concordia," resemble that in Bourget's "Sensations." The establishment has vastly improved since those days.
On the morning after Miss Van Tuyn's telegram to Paris Fanny Cronin arrived, with Bourget's latest book in her hand, and later they settled in at Claridge's. Miss Cronin went to bed, and Miss Van Tuyn, who had no engagement for that evening, went presently to the telephone.
Mark Twain in the late 1800's felt obliged to rebut some of Bourget's prejudice: "What Paul Bourget Thinks of Us." The mixture of blood would there have dissolved the admirable Anglo-Saxon energy which the struggle against a nature at once very rich and very mutinous has exalted to such surprising splendor.
She went to a door at the end of the sitting-room, opened it, crossed a lobby, opened double doors, and entered a bedroom in which a large, mild-looking woman, with square cheeks, chestnut-coloured smooth hair, large, chestnut-coloured eyes under badly painted eyebrows, and a mouth with teeth that suggested a very kind and well-meaning rabbit, was lying in bed with a cup and a pot of camomile tea beside her, and Bourget's "Mensonges" in her hand.
M. Bourget's old professor, in "Le Disciple," we understand, but he does not interest himself much in us, and to us he is rather a curiosity, a "character," than an intimate. We are driven to the belief that humour, with its loving and smiling observation, is necessary to the author who would make his persons real and congenial, and, above all, friendly.
I take a great interest in M. Bourget's chapters, for I know by the newspapers that there are several Americans who are expecting to get a whole education out of them; several who foresaw, and also foretold, that our long night was over, and a light almost divine about to break upon the land. "His utterances concerning us are bound to be weighty and well timed."
And she never hinted it to me, although we talked over marriage only yesterday, when I gave her Bourget's views on it as expressed in his 'Physiologie de l'amour moderne. She never said one word. She never " But at this point Braybrooke felt that an interruption, however rude, was obligatory.
Mark Twain in the late 1800's felt obliged to rebut some of Bourget's prejudice: "What Paul Bourget thinks of us." The mixture of blood would there have dissolved the admirable Anglo-Saxon energy which the struggle against a nature at once very rich and very mutinous has exalted to such surprising splendor.
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