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Updated: June 15, 2025
Indeed, privately, he rather plumed himself on his honourable conduct, forgetting perhaps that it was inspired more by Eugenia's attitude than by his own inclination. Probably he hardly realised that, had Eugenia used her influence differently, there was hardly anything he would not have done. To him facts were everything and he believed he had meant no harm.
Congo, the butler, rushed to Eugenia's assistance, and the general shook his finger at her and formed the word "guest" with his mouth. Miss Chris changed the subject by begging Aunt Griselda to have a wing of chicken. "I don't believe in so much dieting," she said cheerfully. "I think your nerves would be better if you ate more. Just try a brown wing."
Sherman, coming up just then in time to hear Lloyd's song and Eugenia's answer, "you are surely not teasing one of your guests! I am surprised!" To every one's astonishment, Lloyd flopped over in the hammock, and, covering her face with her arm, began to cry. "What is the matter, little daughter?" asked Mrs.
Already Lloyd has promised to tease her father and mother into letting her go to New York next fall, to enter Eugenia's school. She told us that it is very select, and said, "You know sometimes schools that advertise themselves as being awfully select are no better than those horrid public schools, for they take anybody who applies, no matter how common they are."
Brand was indeed, it appeared, very impatient to consummate his sacrifice and deliver the nuptial benediction which would set it off so handsomely; but Eugenia's impatience to withdraw from a country in which she had not found the fortune she had come to seek was even less to be mistaken.
She turned the picture over. There on the back was written in Eugenia's hand the word Venice, and a date underneath the name, Stuart Tremont. "Phil's brother!" gasped Lloyd, in astonishment. "How strange that she should know him!" Tearing open the envelope lying on the bench beside her, Lloyd unfolded a twenty-page letter from Eugenia, written on thin blue foreign correspondence paper.
He met Eugenia's eyes; he appeared to appreciate the privilege of meeting them. Madame Munster instantly felt that he was, intrinsically, the most important person present. She was not unconscious that this impression was in some degree manifested in the little sympathetic nod with which she acknowledged Mr. Wentworth's announcement, "My cousin, Mr. Acton!"
"And this is the first time that I had no escort arranged for. Mrs. Boyd always comes with me. She's little and meek, but her white hair counts for a lot. She would have gone to the station with me, but she and Lucy are dining out. We girls will be all alone to-night. I wish they were not expecting you out at Eugenia's to dinner. I'd take you back with me.
On Eugenia's mind there was not a shadow of suspicion that Dora Deane, appended to that letter, had ere this ceased to be her cousin's name that Mr.
It shone full across Eugenia's face, down on the long-trained shimmering satin, the little gleaming slippers, the filmy veil that enveloped her, the pearls that glimmered white on her white throat. Eliot, standing in a corner, nervously watching every movement with twitching lips, relaxed into a smile.
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