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Updated: May 31, 2025
On the path right in front of the house he paused to think out how he should get inside. As he stood there he noticed two little wanderers coming down the road, who stopped before the inn. The boy saw at once that they were two little girls, and ran toward them. "Come now, Britta Maja!" said one, "you mustn't cry any more. Now we are at the inn. Here they will surely take us in."
But there'll be no one like her ladyship no one!" And he shook his grey head emphatically. "Of course not!" said Britta, with a sort of triumphant defiance. "We know that very well, Morris! There's no one like her ladyship anywhere in the wide world! But I tell you what I think a great many people will be jealous of her." Morris smiled.
It was difficult to recognize Britta in the petite elegante who laughed and danced and chattered her way through some of the best salons in Paris, captivating everybody as she went, but there she was, all the same, holding her own as usual. Her husband was extremely proud of her he was fond of pointing her out to people as something excessively precious and unique and saying "See her!
"Take me in, Britta dear pretty Britta!" he said coaxingly. "Sigurd is hungry! Britta, sweet little Britta, come and talk to me and sing! Good-bye, fat man!" he added suddenly, turning round once more on Dyceworthy. "You will never overtake the big ship that has gone away with Thelma over the water. Thelma will come back, yes! . . . but one day she will go never to come back."
"I have done my best," she said with a sort of grave pathos, "I have been with her night and day had she been a daughter of my own blood, I know not how I could have served her with more tenderness. And, surely, it has been a sore and anxious time with me also for I, too, have learned to love her!" Her set mouth quivered, and Britta, seeing her emotion, was ashamed of her first hasty speech.
Britta, on perceiving her, uttered a faint shriek, and without considering the propriety of her action, buried her nut-brown curls and sparkling eyes in Duprez's coat-sleeve, which, to do the Frenchman justice, was exceedingly prompt to receive and shelter its fair burden. The bonde rose from his chair, and his face grew stern. "What do you here, Lovisa Elsland?
"I I am not well, Britta," she murmured, and suddenly her self-control gave way, and she broke into tears. In an instant Britta was kneeling by her, coaxing and caressing her, and calling her by every endearing name she could think of, while she wisely forbore from asking any more questions. Presently her sobs grew calmer, she rested her fair head against Britta's shoulder and smiled faintly.
"But still, it may be my bridal things may not please Philip. If you know anything about it, you must tell me what is right." Britta was in a little perplexity.
Britta took it, but her mind still revolved the question of her mistress's attire. "If you are going to spend the evening with friends," she suggested, "would it not be better to change?" "I have on a velvet gown," said Thelma, with a rather wearied patience. "It is quite dressy enough for where I am going." She paused abruptly, and Britta looked at her inquiringly.
In a few more days Thelma's engagement to Sir Philip Bruce-Errington was the talk of the neighborhood. The news spread gradually, having been, in the first place, started by Britta, whose triumph in her mistress's happiness was charming to witness. It reached the astonished and reluctant ears of the Reverend Mr.
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