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Updated: May 24, 2025
But Miss Dorothy did not seem to have heard. At least she did not answer. Yet not twenty-four hours later she was ringing the Burtons' doorbell. "No, no not there! I want to see YOU," she panted a little breathlessly, when Susan would have led the way to the living-room. "But Keith would be so glad " begged Susan. "No, no! I particularly don't want him to know I am here," insisted Dorothy.
On January 13th 1887, the Burtons reached Paris, where Sir Richard had the pleasure of meeting Herr Zotenberg, discoverer of the Arabic originals of Alaeddin and Zayn al Asnam; and thence they proceeded to Cannes, where the state of Burton's health gave his wife great uneasiness. She says, "I saw him dripping his pen anywhere except into the ink.
She was deeply touched at the sympathy which was shown to her. The Burtons had been so many years at Trieste, and were so widely known there and respected, that Sir Richard's death was felt as a public loss. A eulogy of Sir Richard was delivered in the Diet of Trieste, and the House adjourned as a mark of respect to his memory.
You and these darlings are now comparatively safe, while others just taken are in deadly peril." Her kind remonstrance had its effect, and the Burtons now consented to let her go. All kissed her most fondly, bade her good-by, and called down the choicest blessings of Heaven upon her head.
Being slow people, the elder Burtons had hardly as yet realized the fact that Harry was again to be accepted among the Burton Penates as a pure divinity. Mrs. Burton, for some weeks past, had grown to be almost sublime in her wrath against him. That a man should live and treat her daughter as Florence was about to be treated!
Their moral, mental, and social gifts notwithstanding, there was nothing connected with the Stornaways, the Downings, the Burtons, and the Larkins of such importance as their antiquity. The uninformed outsider, on hearing it descanted upon, might naturally have been betrayed into the momentary weakness of expecting to see Mr. Downing moulder away, and little old Doctor Burton crumble into dust.
Naturally of a gentle and loving spirit, he longed for suitable companionship on which he might lavish his wealth; but, except the Burtons, with whom he could spend but little time, there was no one from whose influence gleams of sunshine could steal in upon his heart and cheer its desolation.
Walters was quiet, though somewhat moody; his wife did not scold as usual; and when, in the afternoon, Thomas Burton came in for our poor hero, there was no objection made to his going, but permission given for him to stay with the Burtons until bed-time. Walters could not well refuse Thomas any favour.
The Burtons were their own printers and their own publishers, and they made between September, 1885, and November, 1888, sixteen thousand guineas, six thousand of which went towards the expenses of publishing and ten thousand guineas into their own pockets. Isabel writes, "It came just in time to give my husband the comforts and luxuries and freedom which gilded the last five years of his life.
Isabel notes: "After this year misfortunes began to come upon us all, and we have never had another like it." Early next year the Burtons left their flat in Trieste, where they had been for over ten years. Something went wrong with the drainage for one thing, and Burton took an intense dislike to it for another; and when he took a dislike to a house nothing would ever induce him to remain in it.
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