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Updated: May 28, 2025
The next few weeks were such busy and exciting ones for the Bretton family that not only did Marie and Pierre find no time for play but Madame Bretton herself could scarcely snatch the necessary moments to cook the meals.
"Miss Home," pursued Graham, undeterred by his mother's remonstrance, "might I have the honour to introduce myself, since no one else seems willing to render you and me that service? Your slave, John Graham Bretton." She looked at him; he rose and bowed quite gravely.
In the most admirable manner, papa came to school likewise: every other day he called to see me. Madame Aigredoux grumbled, but it was of no use; and so, at last, papa and I were both, in a manner, expelled. Lucy can just tell Madame Beck this little trait: it is only fair to let her know what she has to expect." Mrs. Bretton asked Mr. Home what he had to say in answer to this statement.
"It is well for you, Miss Snowe, to talk and think with that propriety which always characterizes you; but this matter is a grief to me; my little girl was all I had: I have no more daughters and no son; Bretton might as well have looked elsewhere; there are scores of rich and pretty women who would not, I daresay, dislike him: he has looks, and conduct, and connection.
"God guide us all! God bless you, Lucy!" It was very, well for Paulina to decline further correspondence with Graham till her father had sanctioned the intercourse. But Dr. Bretton could not live within a league of the Hotel Crecy, and not contrive to visit there often.
Here in America most of the artificial silk which, by the way, is known as viscose, has cellulose in some form as its base, afterward being treated with different combinations of chemicals." "What shall we do with you, Pierre, if you learn so much?" questioned Madame Bretton mischievously. Pierre smiled.
"But I thought you were in the dining-room, and I wanted Lucy." "You thought I was with John Graham Bretton, I suppose? But he has just been called out: he will be back soon, Polly. He can post your letter for you; it will save Matthieu a 'course, as he calls it." "I don't post letters," said she, rather pettishly. "What do you do with them, then? come here and tell me."
M. Bretton, who had spent a good portion of his slender income in constructing the up-to-date shelter that housed his caterpillars, often laughingly declared that their accommodations were far more luxurious than were those where his own family lived.
Only a prince would be raising silkworms arrayed in a costume of real velvet; and even then, were he to do it, he would be an extravagant fellow." "Is velvet made in America?" Madame Bretton asked. "America makes almost no velvet cloth, but much velvet ribbon, some of which is very fine. The American mills also turn out a great deal of cheaper, cotton-backed velvet ribbon.
When I recovered consciousness, I found myself in a room that smiled "Auld lang syne" out of every nook. Where was I? The furniture was that with which I had been so intimate in the drawing-room of my godmother's house at Bretton.
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