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Updated: June 20, 2025
Bretton's badinage, or whether he perceived that I was pained, and that, on the whole, the evening had not been one flow of exultant enjoyment for the volatile, pleasure-loving Mademoiselle Lucie; but, as I was leaving the room, he stepped up and inquired whether I had any one to attend me to the Rue Fossette.
When next I visited the Bretton's château I found an intruder in the room I had occupied during my illness. "Miss de Bassompièrre, I pronounced, recognising the rescued lady, whose name I had heard on the night of the accident. "No," was the reply. "Not Miss de Bassompièrre to you."
Surely something white fluttered from that window surely a hand waved a handkerchief. Was that signal meant for me? Am I known? Who could recognise me? That is not M. de Bassompierre's carriage, nor Mrs. Bretton's; and besides, neither the Hotel Crecy nor the chateau of La Terrasse lies in that direction. Well, I have no time for conjecture; I must hurry home.
There are human tempers, bland, glowing, and genial, within whose influence it is as good for the poor in spirit to live, as it is for the feeble in frame to bask in the glow of noon. Of the number of these choice natures were certainly both Dr. Bretton's and his mother's.
Bargrave; but yet it is certain matter of fact that he has been at Captain Watson's since the death of his sister, and yet never went near Mrs. Bargrave; and some of his friends report her to be a liar, and that she knew of Mr. Bretton's ten pounds a year. But the person who pretends to say so has the reputation to be a notorious liar among persons whom I know to be of undoubted credit. Now, Mr.
My friends, at least, were well and happy: no accident had occurred to Graham; no illness had seized his mother- calamities that had so long been my dream and thought. Their feelings for me too were as they had been. Yet, how strange it was to look on Mrs: Bretton's seven weeks and contrast them with my seven weeks!
And to see the old dowager making her recline on a couch, and 'my son John' prohibiting excitement, etcetera faugh! the scene was quite sickening." "It would not have been so if the object of attention had been changed: if you had taken Miss de Bassompierre's place." "Indeed! I hate 'my son John!" "'My son John! whom do you indicate by that name? Dr. Bretton's mother never calls him so."
And they did come back: they had only been on a short visit to Madame's chamber; having passed their examination, they came back duly and truly: I found them all right the next day. I wonder what she thought of my correspondence? What estimate did she form of Dr. John Bretton's epistolary powers?
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