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Updated: May 10, 2025
If the surmise he had distantly spied was correct, Miss Middleton would have been caught in the storm midway to her destination. He deduced in consequence that she was at the present moment flying to her friend, the charming brunette Lucy Darleton.
Darleton, Miss Middleton?" said the colonel, rising from his bow to her: "a daughter of General Darleton? If so, I have had the honour to dance with her. And have not you? practised with her, I mean; or gone off in a triumph to dance it out as young ladies do? So you know what a delightful partner she is."
Seeing him as she did, she turned from him and shunned his house as the antre of an ogre. She had posted her letter to Lucy Darleton.
I do not hesitate to say that I do cordially abhor it. But will you not comprehend that to the older man his miseries are multiplied by his years? But is it utterly useless to solicit your sympathy with an old man, Clara?" "General Darleton will take us in, papa." "His table is detestable. I say nothing of that; but his wine is poison.
Nevertheless, she was drawn to the edge of it by the contemplation of her scheme of release. If Lucy Darleton was at home; if Lucy invited her to come: if she flew to Lucy: oh! then her father would have cause for anger. He would not remember that but for hateful wine! . . . What was there in this wine of great age which expelled reasonableness, fatherliness?
Now that I know her to be your friend . . . !" "Why, you may meet her, Colonel De Craye." "It'll be to offer her a castaway. And one only meets a charming girl to hear that she's engaged! 'Tis not a line of a ballad, Miss Middleton, but out of the heart." "Lucy Darleton . . . You were leading me to talk seriously to you, Colonel De Craye." "Will you one day? and not think me a perpetual tumbler!
"To all? or to her?" "Do all the bridesmaids decline?" "The scene is too ghastly." "A marriage?" "Girls have grown sick of it." "Of weddings? We'll overcome the sickness." "With some." "Not with Miss Darleton? You tempt my eloquence." "You wish it?" "To win her consent? Certainly." "The scene?" "Do I wish that?"
This morning she would have an answer to her letter to her friend, Miss Lucy Darleton, the pretty dark girl, whom De Craye was astonished not to have noticed more when he danced with her. She, pretty as she was, had come to his recollection through the name and rank of her father, a famous general of cavalry, and tactician in that arm.
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