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Updated: May 17, 2025
Lady Dalrymple and Ethel were in this room, and Minnie in the one beyond. All were startled by Mrs. Willoughby's exclamation, and still more by her looks. "Oh!" she cried. "What?" cried they. "What is it?" "He's there! He's there!" "Who? who?" they cried, in alarm. "That horrid man!" Lady Dalrymple and Ethel looked at one another in utter horror.
And when in after-days you shall remember this interview, and reflect how that advice was given you, with what solemnity," here she clasped both her hands together, "I think that you will follow it. Clara Van Siever will now become your wife." "I do not know that at all," said Dalrymple.
"That is an idea," answered the nun, quickly. "My uncle is a man of broad views. I have heard it said in Rome. I could write to him that Doctor Taddei is unable to come, and that a celebrated foreign physician is here " "Not celebrated," interrupted Dalrymple, with his literal Scotch veracity. "What difference can it make?" uttered Maria Addolorata, moving her shoulders a little impatiently.
Any one would have taken Paul Griggs for a Roman. At last, almost in spite of herself, she made a remark about his speech. "I was born here," answered Griggs. "It is much more remarkable that Miss Dalrymple should speak Italian as she does, having been born in Scotland."
For that reason her flattering admiration had brought with it a peculiar savour, especially delightful to the taste of a man of humble origin. Dalrymple did not understand that, but he knew that if Gloria married the great painter, the latter would effectually keep her from the stage.
"Will you have the goodness to tell me, miss, why you are dressed up after that Mad Bess of Bedlam fashion?" The reader will no doubt bear in mind that Clara had other words of which to think besides those which were addressed to her by her mother. Dalrymple had asked her to be his wife in the plainest possible language, and she thought that the very plainness of the language became him well.
By this time we were half-way to Paris, and the student, satisfied with his success, packed up his folio, brought out a great meerschaum with a snaky tube, and smoked like a factory-chimney. When we alighted, it was nearly five o'clock. "What shall we do next?" said Dalrymple, pulling drearily at his moustache.
Their breath failed them, and their hearts for a time almost ceased to beat as they sat there, overcome by such dread thoughts as these. Suddenly a cry of delight escaped Ethel. She was kneeling down beside Lady Dalrymple and Mrs. Willoughby, with her eyes staring from her pallid face, when she saw the stranger turn and look up. He took off his hat, and waved it two or three times.
'Well, I'm glad that's over, ain't you? says Mrs Dalrymple, who is comfortably seated in a railway carriage, her husband opposite. 'Very, replies Jimmy, looking unutterable things at her. 'I say though, how late you were. I thought you were never coming, and Helmdon had the fidgets.
Dalrymple told him that he wished to go to Tivoli, and that the boy could come with him if he chose, after the visit to the abbess was over. The boy ran away to saddle the mule. Dalrymple rose quickly, and shut the street door in order to take the lamp with him to his room, and not to leave the house open with no light in it. The case was urgent.
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