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Updated: June 5, 2025
This practice they continued as much as possible after they came to London early in the spring; but the weather of late had not been favourable, and Florimel had been very little out with him.
"It is smaller, my lady," returned Malcolm, "but then there is a little state room beyond." On the table was a nice meal cold, but not the less agreeable in the summer weather. Everything looked charming. There were flowers; the linen was snowy; and the bread was the very sort Florimel liked best. "It is a perfect fairy tale!" she cried. "And I declare here is our crest on the forks and spoons!
Seating herself by the pedestal of the trumpet blowing Wind, she assayed her reading again, but was again startled this time by a rough salute from Demon. Presently her father appeared, and Lady Florimel felt something like a pang of relief at being found there, and not on the farther side of the dune making it up with Malcolm.
Florimel asked to see one standing as in disgrace with its front to the wall.
This is a plain and only too intelligible reference to the college experiences to which I have alluded. The youth for the moment thought that he had encountered her whom he was seeking, but, instead of the Florimel, he found her venal, hideous, and fatal simulacrum; and he indicates even the material consequences to himself in his injured aspect and hair touched with gray. He continues his search.
"All that is now left you," concluded Malcolm, "is the choice between sending Liftore away, and being abandoned by him. That choice you must now make." The poor girl tried to speak, but could not. Her fire was burning out, her forced strength fast failing her. "Florimel," said Malcolm, and knelt on one knee and took her hand.
"I understand," said the marquis, paled frightfully, and turned his head aside. When Mrs Courthope suggested that Lady Florimel should be sent for, he flew into a frightful rage, and spoke as it is to be hoped he had never spoken to a woman before. She took it with perfect gentleness, but could not repress a tear. The marquis saw it, and his heart was touched.
Her easygoing father was amused, laughed, and said nothing more on the subject at the time. Lady Florimel did not confess that she had begun to feel her life monotonous, or mention that she had for some time been cultivating the acquaintance of a few of her poor neighbours, and finding their odd ways of life and thought and speech interesting.
Lenorme was not there, and everything was just as when Malcolm was last in the room. Florimel was much disappointed, but Malcolm talked to her about the portrait, and did all he could to bring back vivid the memory of her father. At length with a little sigh she made a movement to go.
"And," Florimel went on, "I have heard my father say no gentleman ever told a lie." "Then Lord Liftore is no gentleman," said Malcolm. "But I am not going to plead my own cause even to you, my lady. If you can doubt me, do. I have only one thing more to say: that when I told you and my Lady Clementina about the fisher girl and the gentleman " "How dare you refer to that again?
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