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Updated: June 11, 2025
The name of the pool, Bowen, is of British derivation, which is a farther proof that the work originated from the Britons. They did not place their security so much in the trenches, as in the mounds, which they barracaded with timber. This camp is secured on three sides by a morass, and is only approachable on the fourth, that from the Coldfield.
"I have asked Mr. Fitzgerald to spend a week with us." "Thank you, father. It was thoughtful of you. If you had not asked him, the pleasure of doing so would have been mine. Mrs. Coldfield pointed you out to me as a most ungrateful fellow, because you never called on your father's or mother's friends any more, but preferred to gallivant round the world. You will stay?
Coldfield had given me a guaranty before I addressed you, so the adventure was only a make-believe one after all." There never was a girl quite like this one. He purloined a sidelong glance at her which embraced her wholly, from the chic gray cap on the top of her shapely head to the sensible little boots on her feet.
"No," Hildegarde answered, "my voice is gone." "Oh, I am so sorry." "It does not matter. I can hum a little to myself; there is yet some pleasure in that. But in opera, no, never again. Has not Mrs. Coldfield told you? No? Imagine! One night in Dresden, in the middle of the aria, my voice broke miserably and I could not go on." "And her heart nearly broke with it," interposed Mrs.
All right; I'm game. But, no nerves, no Baden." "Go, if you will; but do take care of yourself; and let the admiral go first, when there's any sign of danger." Coldfield chuckled. "I'll get behind him every time I think of it." "Kiss me. They are waiting for you. And be careful." It was only a little brave comedy.
It was droll, this man at her side, chatting to her as if he had known her for years, when, seven or eight days ago, he had stood, a man all unknown to her, on a city corner, selling plaster of Paris statuettes on a wager; and but for Mrs. Coldfield, she had passed him for ever. Out upon the prude who would look askance at her for harmless daring!
Coldfield, know my mother; and wasn't your father a great friend of my father's? As for being odd, what about me? I believe I stood on the corner, and tried to sell plaster casts, just to win a foolish club wager." "Men can jest that way with impunity, but a woman may not. Still, I really couldn't help acting the way I did," with a tinkle in her voice and a twinkle in her eyes.
"She is," the young man agreed, with his admiration leveled at the lovely profile of the girl. "Let me see," began the admiral; "there will be Mr. and Mrs. Coldfield, first-class sailors, both of them. What's the name of that singer who is with them?" "Hildegarde von Mitter." "Of the Royal Opera in Munich?" asked Fitzgerald. "Yes. Have you met her? Isn't she lovely?" "I have only heard of her."
But Laura, who was not aware of this ancient reserve, thought that both of them showed a lack of warmth. And Fitzgerald, who was watching all comers now, was sure that the past of his friend and Breitmann interlaced in some way. "So, young man," said Mrs. Coldfield, a handsome motherly woman, "you have had the impudence to let five years pass without darkening my doors. What excuse have you?"
The two men could not keep their eyes off her, the one with loving possession, the other with admiration not wholly free from unrest. The daring manner in which she had lured him here would never be forgetable. And she had known him at the start? And that merry Mrs. Coldfield in the plot! "I hope this will cheer you, father." "It always does," replied the admiral, as he took the second glass.
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