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Updated: June 18, 2025
'You do scurry one so, Jacinth. And then when, having borne this certainly unmerited reproach in silence, Jacinth with relief heard the door close on her sister and began to hope she was going to have a little peace, it was opened again sufficiently to admit Frances's fluffy head, while she asked, in a half-grumbling, half-conciliatory tone, if she might take Eugene.
Young Harry Paine, who was to marry his employer's daughter on Monday, had come to the tent with a crowd of friends and danced all evening. Afterward, he begged Antonia to let him walk home with her. She said she supposed he was a nice young man, as he was one of Miss Frances's friends, and she didn't mind.
I I did not think it concerned me, and you might not have liked it. I I should be so sorry to vex you. The appeal in her eyes touched Lady Myrtle more than Frances's tears. And in what she said, so far as it went, Jacinth was sincere.
This Saturday Frances's Day dwindled and melted away and closed, after its manner; only Vera and Stephen lingered. They stayed on talking to Michael long after everybody else had gone. Stephen said he had come to say good-bye to Michael's people and to make a proposal to Michael himself. He was going to Ireland. Vera interrupted him with passion. "He isn't. He hasn't any proposal to make.
Carnegie quite nicely, Francie." Frances's cheeks had that delicate bloom on them which comes now and then as a special and finishing touch, as the last crown of beauty to very pale faces. Her eyes were soft, and her dark eyelashes were still a little wet with some tears which were not unhappy ones. "Philip wrung a confession out of me," she whispered to her little cousin.
The train went off, groaning over the steep grade, and screaming out its usual echoing warning about the next road crossing. Uncle Henry took Aunt Frances's suitcase and plodded back to the surrey. He got into the front seat and Aunt Frances and Betsy in the back; and they started off.
Frances, however, gave a little sigh. 'Very well, she said, 'I won't speak about it any more to Margaret if you think I'd better not. But it's rather hard not to have any one I can tell about it, when I've been so interested. And Frances's face grew very doleful. Bessie Harper looked and felt sorry for her.
I also suggested that we meet in Bettina's parlor, where Frances's letter could be rewritten in cipher. We trusted Bettina as we trusted ourselves, and when we told her the good news, she clapped her hands for joy, laughing, yet ready to weep, and was as happy as even she could be, which was very happy indeed.
Immediately the coach started, but presently it stopped again, and Frances had an opportunity to speak to the girl who had come to see Betty. Fortunately a buttonhole in the cloak which the men had thrown over Frances's head happened to fall over one of her eyes, and thus enabled her to see the girl.
In five minutes Agricola returned; his face was pale and agitated his eyes glistened with tears, and his hands trembled; but his countenance expressed extraordinary happiness and emotion. He stood at the door for a moment, as if too much affected to accost his mother. Frances's sight was so bad that she did not immediately perceive the change her son's countenance had undergone.
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