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Updated: May 7, 2025
Lady Helena is not young nor beautiful, as you might imagine, but a fair, fat, and sixty, I should say, British matron. She is the daughter of the late Marquis of St Albans, and a widow, her husband having died some time ago. And they are immensely rich. IMMENSELY, Dithy! Capitals can't do justice to it. Fancy yourself reading it in the papers: "'On the th inst, by the Rev.
"How often did I beg your pardon, Beatrix; I didn't catch what you said." "I see you didn't. You're half-asleep, arn't you? A penny for your thoughts, Dithy." "They're not worth a farthing," Edith answered, contemptuously. "I chanced just then to be thinking of Mrs. Featherbrain. What was it you asked something about Sir Victor?" "I asked how often Sir Victor danced with you last night."
There came a day at last when thought and recollection began to struggle back when she had strength to lie awake and think. More than once Trix caught the dark eyes fixed in silent wistfulness upon her a question in them her lips would not ask. But Miss Stuart guessed it, and one day spoke: "What is it, Dithy?" she said; "you look as if you wanted to say something, you know."
When I told you, you wished me joy. Just come back and give me time to catch my breath, and I'll wish you joy too. But it's so sudden, so unexpected. O Dithy, I thought you liked Charley all this while!" How like Charley's the handsome dark gray eyes were! Edith Darrell could not meet them; she turned and looked out of the window. "I like him, certainly; I would be very ungrateful if I did not.
One's enough at a time." "Yes, Dithy, darling, go," said her father, kissing her tenderly. "You're a brave little woman, and you've saved his life. I have always been proud of you, but never so proud as to-night." It certainly was a couple of weeks. It was five blessed weeks before "Mr. Charley," as they learned to call him, could get about, even on crutches.
So I carried it off everyone says I really looked my very best, and don't set this down to vanity dear the gentlemen's eyes indorsed it. I danced all night, and here is where the rapture comes in, three times with the baronet. I can't say much for his waltzing, but he's delightful, Dithy charming. Could a baronet be anything else?
You remember Angus Hammond, I suppose?" Trix says, blushing and hesitating; "he wrote us about it, and" a pause. "Go on; what else did he write?" "That there was trouble of some sort, a separation, I think that you had parted on your very wedding-day. Of course we couldn't believe that" "It is quite true," was the low reply. Trixy's eyes opened. "True! O Dithy! On your wedding-day!"
"You have been so completely monopolized all evening, Dithy," said a familiar voice beside her, "that there has been no such thing as speaking a word to you. Better late than never, though, I hope." She lifted her eyes to Charley's face, Charley looking as he ever looked to her, "a man of men," handsome and gallant, as though he were indeed the prince they called him.
I did want you, Dithy; it seems such ages and ages since we met, and I was troubled about you. I heard of him, you know, poor fellow." She touches timidly Edith's widow's weeds. There is no answer Edith's tears are falling. She is contrasting her own cowardice with Trixy's courage; her own hardness with Trixy's generosity. "How do you know?" she asks at length. "Captain Hammond.
You're a sentimental goose, Miss Stuart, and have taken Byron and Miss Landon in too large doses." "But you like him," persisted his sister, "don't you, Dithy?" "Like him like him!" Her whole face lit up for a second with a light that made it lovely. "Well, yes, Trix, I don't mind owning that much I do like Charley like him so well that I won't marry and ruin him.
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