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Updated: May 20, 2025
Annie would take Effie off Aunt Felicia's hands, and no comment would be excited by a deaf-anddumb girl carrying written messages to the tradesmen, since she obviously could not give them orally. The only comment would be on Annie's conduct in holding herself aloof from her family and the village people generally.
I want to be understood as well as liked, and that is where Christopher and I come across each other; he never understands me in the least. Now that is why Mr. Tremaine and I get on so well together; he understands and appreciates me so thoroughly." Felicia's pretty month fell into stern lines of disapproval. "I am sure I should hate Mr. Tremaine if I knew him," she said.
Constance Crenmitz was the one feminine element in Felicia's childhood. Futile, limited in mind, she had at least a coquettish taste, agile fingers that knew how to sew, to embroider, to arrange things, to leave in every corner of the room their dainty and individual trace.
Living in Felicia's house, the responsibility became still more serious by reason of the wastefulness introduced long ago by the father and continued by the daughter, two artists knowing nothing of economy. She had, moreover, other difficulties to conquer.
They were artists, with refined heads and luxuriant beards; here and there you might see among them white-haired friends of Ruys, her father; then there were society men, bankers, stock-brokers, and a few young men about town, come to see the handsome girl rather than her sculpture, in order to be able to say at the club in the evening, "I was at Felicia's to-day."
Kirk held Felicia's sleeve, for she was carrying two bags. He stumbled eagerly through the tall dry grass of last summer's unmown growth. "Now can you see it? Now?" But Felicia had stopped, and Kirk stopped, too. "Are we there? Why don't you say anything?" Felicia said nothing because she could not trust her voice. Kirk knew every shade of it; she could not deceive him.
They behaved no better nor no worse than "the-thousand-weeds-for-which-we- have-no-name " yet a spirit of fairness roused itself in Felicia's unhappy thoughts. "After all, they're not to blame, these two uncared-for savages!" She put down her needle and thimble, walked with a determination toward the wee contestants in a never ending fight and put her hand on the younger child's shoulder.
Aside from these little dramas, which had no effect upon the love of their hearts, those two worshipped each other, with the presentiment and, as the days passed, the cruel certainty of an impending separation; when suddenly there came a horrible episode in Felicia's life. One day Jenkins took her home to dinner with him, as he often did.
Felicia's delicate fingers guided her needle back and forth making exquisite darns and patches in small petticoats and dresses. One grudging word of approval did her plump and fretful employer allow her. "You certainly can sew, but you needn't bother to take such small stitches I wish you'd stop fussing with that and press my frock " An ironing board added itself to the other confusion.
I wanted you to see Felicia's home at its very best; and, at its best, it is a home that any woman might be proud of." Mrs. Herbert's lip trembled. "It is indeed a most beautiful home, and I am sure Felicia has everything to make her happy." "And she is happy, Mrs. Herbert; I don't think I ever saw anybody so perfectly happy as Felicia is now.
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