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Updated: May 28, 2025


This second "comfort" came on the stage in the course of the evening. I knew this day had been fixed for his return, and was aware that Mrs. Bretton had been expecting him through all its hours. We were seated round the fire, after tea, when Graham joined our circle: I should rather say, broke it up for, of course, his arrival made a bustle; and then, as Mr.

Bretton listened, and waited an opening in the magic circle, his glance restlessly sweeping the room at intervals, lighted by chance on me, where I sat in a quiet nook not far from my godmother and M. de Bassompierre, who, as usual, were engaged in what Mr. Home called "a two-handed crack:" what the Count would have interpreted as a tete-a-tete.

And she deposited the cup on the carpet, like a jailor putting a prisoner's pitcher of water through his cell-door, and retreated. Presently she returned. "What will you have besides tea what to eat?" "Anything good. Bring me something particularly nice; that's a kind little woman." She came back to Mrs. Bretton. "Please, ma'am, send your boy something good."

He had struggled through entanglements; his fortunes were in the way of retrieval; he proved himself in a position to marry. Once more the father and lover appeared in the library. M. de Bassompierre shut the door; he pointed to his daughter. "Take her," he said. "Take her, John Bretton: and may God deal with you as you deal with her!"

So, while the Count stood by the fire, and Paulina Mary still danced to and fro happy in the liberty of the wide hall-like kitchen Mrs. Bretton herself instructed Martha to spice and heat the wassail-bowl, and, pouring the draught into a Bretton flagon, it was served round, reaming hot, by means of a small silver vessel, which I recognised as Graham's christening-cup.

I heard some French fops, yonder, designating her as 'le type du voluptueux; if so, I can only say, 'le voluptueux' is little to my liking. Compare that mulatto with Ginevra!" One morning, Mrs. Bretton, coming promptly into my room, desired me to open my drawers and show her my dresses; which I did, without a word. "That will do," said she, when she had turned them over.

These were the initials of my godmother's name Lonisa Lucy Bretton. "Am I in England? Am I at Bretton?" I muttered; and hastily pulling up the blind with which the lattice was shrouded, I looked out to try and discover where I was; half-prepared to meet the calm, old, handsome buildings and clean grey pavement of St.

"Do stay, Father," they cried. "Stay and tell us some stories." Monsieur le Curé smiled into their eager faces. "I will gladly stay if you are sure the porridge " "There is enough, Father, and to spare," declared Madame Bretton. "But had I known you were coming you should have had one of the hot tea cakes that you like so much." "Ah, a tea cake how good it is! You are a rare cook, my daughter."

I anticipate that net expenditures of the Export-Import Bank and expenditures arising from the British credit and the Bretton Woods Agreements will amount to 2,614 million dollars, including the noncash item of 950 million dollars for the fund, in the fiscal year 1946, and 2,754 million dollars in the fiscal year 1947.

"What letter, Lucy? My dear girl, what letter?" asked a known voice in my ear. Could I believe that ear? No: and I looked up. Could I trust my eyes? Had I recognised the tone? Did I now look on the face of the writer of that very letter? Was this gentleman near me in this dim garret, John Graham Dr. Bretton himself? Yes: it was.

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