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"Ah, but what voices you must have heard in Italy," said Emilia softly. "I am afraid to sing after them. Si: I dare not." She panted, little in keeping with the cajolery of her tones, but she had got Mr. Pericles upon a theme serious to his mind. "Not a voice! not one!" he cried, stamping his foot. "All is French. I go twice wizin six monz, and if I go to a goose-yard I hear better.
Then he murmured, "Poor old governor!" and wondered whether Emilia would come to this place according to his desire. Love, that had lain crushed in him for the few recent days, sprang up and gave him the thought, "She may be here now;" but, his eyes not being satiated instantly with a sight of her, the possibility of such happiness faded out.
Now, poor people, yokels, clods, cannot love what is incomprehensible to them. An idol must have their attributes: a king must show his face now and then: a song must appeal to their intelligence, to subdue them quite. This, as we know, is not the case in the higher circles. Emilia may have divined it: possibly from the very great respect with which her finale was greeted.
Lady Charlotte was too late for Emilia, when she went forth to her to speak for Wilfrid. She found the youth Braintop resting heavily against a tree, muttering to himself that he had no notion where he was, as an excuse for his stationary posture, while the person he presumed he should have detained was being borne away.
He alighted, and together with the footman, examined the place to see what the chance was of their getting the carriage past. After a space of waiting, Georgiana clutched the wraps about her throat and head, and impetuously followed her brother, as her habit had always been. Emilia sat upright, saying, "I must go too."
Later, Leo the Tenth was importuned to curb the festive spirit of the place, but he shelved the matter by sending along a fatherly letter of advice and counsel. About this time we find the Abbess and her Legal Adviser planning a scheme of decoration that should win the admiration or envy or both of every art-lover in the Emilia. The young man, Antonio Allegri, from Correggio should do the work.
Too much business is bad for man and boy. I feel better already, if it weren't for my legs. My feet are so cold. Don't you think I'm pretty talkative, my dear?" "I am glad to hear you talk," said Emilia, striving to look less perplexed than she felt. He asked her slyly why she had come to London; and she begged that she might speak of it by-and-by; whereat Mr.
So, now, when Emilia was beckoned to the piano, she passed by Wilfrid, and had a cold look in return for beaming eyes. According to directions, Emilia sang a simple Neapolitan air. The singer was unknown, and was generally taken for another sacrifice. "Come; that's rather pretty," Lady Gosstre hailed the close. "It is of ze people such as zat," assented Mr. Pericles.
"Nothing, if you do not love me," he was replying mournfully, when, "Yes! yes!" rushed to his lips; "marry me: marry me to-morrow. You have loved me. 'I am never to leave you! Can you forget the night when you said it? Emilia! Marry me and you will love me again. You must. This man, whoever he is Ah! why am I such a brute! Come! be mine! Let me call you my own darling!
The marquis was, I believe, glad to be spared the trouble of searching further for what he had hitherto found it difficult to obtain a person whom inclination as well as duty would bind to his interest. Madame ceased to speak, and Emilia and Julia wept to the memory of the mother, whose misfortunes this story recorded.
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