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Updated: June 4, 2025
It carried her as her as the promenade, which she found empty, and she went and leaned upon the rail, and looked out over the sorrowful North Sea, which was washing darkly away towards where the gloomy sunset had been. Steps from the other side of the ship approached, hesitated towards her, and then arrested themselves. She looked round. "Why, Miss Kenton!" said Breckon, stupidly.
She's read more about it," said the girl. "Rise of the Dutch Republic," her father suggested. "Yes, I know. But she's read more about Italy!" "Oh, well," Breckon yielded, "the Italian lakes wouldn't be impossible. And you might find Venice fairly comfortable." "We could go to Italy, then," said the judge to his daughter, "if your mother prefers."
Breckon interpolated, in a note of sympathetic interest. He could not well do more. It was enough for Judge Kenton, who launched himself upon the celebration of Ellen's gifts and qualities with a simple-hearted eagerness which he afterwards denied when his wife accused him of it, but justified as wholly safe in view of Mr. Breckon's calling and his obvious delicacy of mind.
"You had better stop off. We shall be there in November, and they say Rome is worth seeing," she laughed demurely. "That is what Boyne understands. He's promised to use his influence with his family to let him run down to see us there, if he can't get them all to come. You might offer to personally conduct them." "Yes." said Breckon, with the effect of cloture.
The door of the gangway was within reach, and Breckon laid hold of the rail beside it and put the girl within. "Are you hurt?" he asked. "No, no; I'm not hurt," she panted, sinking on the cushioned benching where usually rows of semi-sea-sick people were lying. "I thought you might have been bruised against the bulkhead," he said. "Are you sure you're not hurt that I can't get you anything?
Ellen laughed she could not help it and her laughing made it less possible than before for Breckon to unbend and meet Trannel on his own ground, to give him joke for joke, to exchange banter with him. He might never have been willing to do that, but now he shrank from it, in his realization of their likeness, with an abhorrence that rendered him rigid.
Under the intimidation he promised not to speak of Ellen again. At luncheon, where Mr. Breckon again devoted himself to Lottie, he and Ellen vied in ignoring each other after their introduction, as far as words went. The girl smiled once or twice at what he was saying to her sister, and his glance kindled when it detected her smile.
And it never struck me before." "I didn't suppose we looked alike," said Ellen. "No, certainly. I shouldn't have taken you for sisters. And yet, just now, I felt that you were like her. You seem so much stronger this morning perhaps it's that the voyage is doing you good. Shall you be sorry to have it end?" "Shall you? That's the way Lottie would answer." Breckon laughed. "Yes, it is.
They were not really so fruitless but that at the end of them she could go with due authority to look up her husband. She gently took his book from him and shut it up. "Now, Mr. Kenton," she began, "if you don't go right straight and find Mr. Breckon and talk with him, I I don't know what I will do. You must talk to him " "About Ellen?" the judge frowned. "No, certainly not.
She wished to test the enormity, and yet not find it so monstrous, by submitting the case to her husband, and she could scarcely keep back her impatience at seeing Ellen instead of her father. "Momma, what have you been saying to Mr. Breckon about me?" "Nothing," said Mrs. Kenton, aghast at first, and then astonished to realize that she was speaking the simple truth.
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