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Updated: June 19, 2025
"Do you want to stay in Europe or not? that's what I want to know," Delia pursued to her sister. "If you want to go bang home you're taking the right way to do it." "What has that got to do with it?" Mr. Dosson audibly wondered. "Should you like so much to reside at that place where is it? where his paper's published? That's where you'll have to pull up sooner or later," Delia declaimed.
He had an idea that in this manner he kept himself in touch with his countrymen; and he had never pitched his endeavour so high as in leaving that card on the Misses Dosson. He was in search of freshness, but he needn't have gone far: he would have had but to turn his lantern on his own young breast to find a considerable store of it.
"Oh with Francie they'll take anything back," Delia Dosson declared. "They just love her, all over." "Well, they're like me then," said Mr. Flack with friendly cheer. "I'LL take her back if she'll come." "Well, I don't think I'm ready quite yet," the girl replied. "But I hope very much we shall cross with you again." "Talk about crossing it's on these boulevards we want a life-preserver!"
They had got into the high set and they didn't care about the past: he alluded to the past as if it had been rich in mutual vows, in pledges now repudiated. "What's the matter all the same? Won't you come round there with us some day?" Mr. Dosson asked; not having perceived for himself any reason why the young journalist shouldn't be a welcome and easy presence in the Cours la Reine.
He allowed that he had been very sick at sea and was still feeling the effect of it, but insisted that there was nothing the matter with him now. He sat for some time with Mr. Dosson and Delia, and never once alluded to the cloud that hung over their relations.
Dosson and Delia, whom he could neither justify nor coherently account for nor make people like, but whom he had ended after so many days of familiar intercourse by liking extremely himself. The way to get on with them it was an immense simplification was just to love them: one could do that even if one couldn't converse with them.
Dosson, it may further be noted, was a person of the simplest composition, a character as cipherable as a sum of two figures. He had a native financial faculty of the finest order, a gift as direct as a beautiful tenor voice, which had enabled him, without the aid of particular strength of will or keenness of ambition, to build up a large fortune while he was still of middle age.
The good man had not understood what was meant by this till Delia explained after the visitor had withdrawn, and even then the remedy for the neglect, administered two or three days later, had not borne any copious fruit. Mr. Dosson called alone, instructed by his daughter, in the Cours la Reine, but Mr. Probert was not at home.
The difficulty was in application, in practice as to which the painter declared that all would be easy if such account hadn't to be taken of the marquise, the comtesse and what was the other one? the princess. It was at Granada that Gaston had really broken out; there, one balmy night, he had dropped into his comrade's ear that he would marry Francina Dosson or would never marry at all.
"You can't do less than Mr. Dosson. As I told you, he waived the question of money and he was splendid. We can't be more mercenary than he." "He waived the question of his own, you mean?" said Mr. Probert. "Yes, and of yours. But it will be all right." The young man flattered himself that this was as near as he was willing to go to any view of pecuniary convenience.
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