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Updated: June 9, 2025


"It was you who showed me the photographs, at Grimwinter!" "Yes, it was I. This happens very charmingly, for I feel as if it were for me to give you a formal reception here, an official welcome. I talked to you so much about Europe." "You did n't say too much. I am so happy!" she softly exclaimed. Very happy she looked.

I could not tell her that the Countess was very possibly the runaway wife of a little hair-dresser. I tried suddenly, on the contrary, to show a high consideration for her. But I got up; I could n't stay longer. It vexed me to see Caroline Spencer standing there like a waiting-maid. "You expect to remain some time at Grimwinter?" I said to the Countess. She gave a terrible shrug. "Who knows?

"I should like it served in the garden under the leetle tree." The young man behind her had now stepped into the room, and he also stood looking at me. He was a pretty-faced little fellow, with an air of provincial foppishness, a tiny Adonis of Grimwinter. He had a small pointed nose, a small pointed chin, and, as I observed, the most diminutive feet.

It had been snowing all day, and the drifts were knee-high. I wondered how the ladies had made their way to the house; but I perceived that at Grimwinter a conversazione offering the attraction of two gentlemen from New York was felt to be worth an effort. Mrs. Latouche, in the course of the evening, asked me if I "did n't want to" show the photographs to some of the young ladies.

It prevents me from thinking of things that are nearer home, things that I ought to attend to. That is a kind of craziness." "The cure for it is to go," I said. "I have a faith that I shall go. I have a cousin in Europe!" she announced. We turned over some more photographs, and I asked her if she had always lived at Grimwinter. "Oh, no, sir," said Miss Spencer.

One of the first things I did on my return was to go up to Grimwinter to pay a consolatory visit to his poor mother. We talked of nothing else, and our conversation terminated only with the arrival of a quick little woman who drove herself up to the door in a "carryall," and whom I saw toss the reins upon the horse's back with the briskness of a startled sleeper throwing back the bed-clothes.

But I had seen them very far away from Grimwinter, and it was an odd sensation to be seeing her here. Whither was it the sight of her seemed to transport me?

She was "artistic," I suspected, so far as Grimwinter allowed such tendencies. She had a soft, surprised eye, and thin lips, with very pretty teeth. Round her neck she wore what ladies call, I believe, a "ruche," fastened with a very small pin in pink coral, and in her hand she carried a fan made of plaited straw and adorned with pink ribbon. She wore a scanty black silk dress.

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