United States or Mongolia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Annette stretched herself. "Tar-brush?" she said. "What is that? His mother was Armenienne." "That's it, then," muttered Soames. "Does he know anything about pictures?" "He knows about everything a man of the world." "Well, get some one for Fleur. I want to distract her. She's going off on Saturday to Val Dartie and his wife; I don't like it." "Why not?"
Fleur raised her head; a sob merged suddenly into a little choked laugh. In truth it was a thin and rather wild and wasted spirit she was looking at, but it had brave eyes. "All right!" she said. "I'm sorry. I shall forget him, I suppose, if I fly fast and far enough." And, scrambling to her feet, she went over to the wash-stand. June watched her removing with cold water the traces of emotion.
From the bank, awhile, in the warm summer stillness, she watched the water-lily plants and willow leaves, the fishes rising; sniffed the scent of grass and meadow-sweet, wondering how she could force everybody to be happy. Jon and Fleur! Two little lame ducks charming callow yellow little ducks! A great pity! Surely something could be done! One must not take such situations lying down.
And as for the steak, I beg you will not judge me until I have got for myself the cuts I want from the butcher. Then you shall see, sir, what I can do for you. In a beautiful home like this, Mr. Haverley, the cooking should be of the noblest and best." Ralph laughed. "So long as you stay with us, La Fleur," he said, "I am sure Cobhurst will have all it deserves in that respect."
He found mine host of the Fleur de lis seated in the forecastle of the schooner; and with an air of the most perfect unconcern discussing a substantial meal, consisting of dried uncooked venison, raw onions, and Indian corn bread, the contents of a large bag or wallet that lay at his feet.
In short, entirely forgetting he was a man, he treated him with such shocking contempt, and so cruel a disdain in everything, that the poor lad, a very good creature, whom Madam d'Epinay had recommended, quitted his service without any other complaint than that of the impossibility of enduring such treatment. This was the la Fleur of this new presuming upstart.
In the sachet where she sought for it an old sachet of very faded silk there were two compartments: one held handkerchiefs; the other was buttoned, and contained something flat and hard. By some childish impulse Fleur unbuttoned it. There was a frame and in it a photograph of herself as a little girl. She gazed at it, fascinated, as one is by one's own presentment.
Feeling that he had but aggravated his breach of breeding, he heard Fleur answer: "Thanks very much; I have to get back to dinner. I met Jon by accident, and we thought it would be rather jolly just to see his home." How self-possessed she was! "Of course; but you MUST have tea. We'll send you down to the station. My husband will enjoy seeing you."
When she looked round with the finished note Fleur was still touching the poppies with her gloved finger. June licked a stamp. "Well, here it is. If you're not in love, of course, there's no more to be said. Jon's lucky." Fleur took the note. "Thanks awfully!" 'Cold-blooded little baggage! thought June. Jon, son of her father, to love, and not to be loved by the daughter of Soames!
"It's their sense of property," he said, "which makes people chain things. The last generation thought of nothing but property; and that's why there was the war." "Oh!" said Fleur, "I never thought of that. Your people and mine quarrelled about property. And anyway we've all got it at least, I suppose your people have." "Oh! yes, luckily; I don't suppose I shall be any good at making money."
Word Of The Day