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Updated: May 28, 2025
"As for me, I have had my old Bretton agent here on a visit, and have been plunged overhead and ears in business matters. I do so wish to regain for Graham at least some part of what his father left him.
The venerable priest smiled with pleasure, and with a child clinging to each of his hands he passed into the tiny cottage. The interior of the Bretton home was extremely simple; and simple, too, was the supper laid out upon the sand-scoured table.
The moment the gentlemen were heard to move, her railings ceased: she started up, flew to the piano, and dashed at it with spirit. Dr. Bretton entering, one of the first, took up his station beside her.
"Sir, till you approve, nothing is done only they love each other." "Only!" he echoed. Invested by fate with the part of confidante and mediator, I was obliged to go on: "Hundreds of times has Dr. Bretton been on the point of appealing to you, sir; but, with all his high courage, he fears you mortally." "He may well he may well fear me. He has touched the best thing I have.
"There, papa: but remember you are only waited upon with this assiduity; on condition of being persuadable, and reconciling yourself to La Terrasse for the day." "Mrs. Bretton," said the Count, "I want to get rid of my daughter to send her to school. Do you know of any good school?" "There is Lucy's place Madame Beck's." "Miss Snowe is in a school?"
"Bretton Woods," an estate of ten thousand acres, lies in a very picturesque section of these mountains. The Amonoosuc valley is somewhat less than four miles west from the head of Crawford's notch.
There is, in lovers, a certain infatuation of egotism; they will have a witness of their happiness, cost that witness what it may. Paulina had forbidden letters, yet Dr. Bretton wrote; she had resolved against correspondence, yet she answered, were it only to chide.
Bretton; but the 'Miss' struck me mute. I actually never received a letter from a gentleman before. Ought I to have shown it to papa, and let him open it and read it first? I could not for my life, Lucy.
Nay, there, on the linen of my bed, were my godmothers initials "L.L.B."; and there was the portrait that used to hang over the mantelpiece in the breakfast-room in the old house at Bretton. I audibly pronounced the name "Graham!" "Graham!" echoed a sudden voice at my bedside. "Do you want Graham?" She was little changed; something sterner, something more robust, but it was my godmother, Mrs.
I considered that I had a moral right to it; but if anybody questions it, it is at his service. Buffalo was full of Frenchmen, but they did not receive me with a torchlight procession. They even shrugged their shoulders when good old Pater Bretton took up my cause and tried to get me forwarded at least to New York.
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