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Greif was happy and Rex was broken-hearted. If Greif had refused to marry Hilda, Rex might perhaps have won her, supplying by his own wealth the fortune which should have been hers through Greif's ruin. Luck indeed!
"I don't know," said Hilda, with curtness. He stepped aside, in the direction of the window, and examined curiously the surface of the glass, as though in search of a concealed message which it might contain. In a new and much more animated voice he said to the window: "Of course I know it's all my fault!" Hilda glanced up at his back; he was still not more than three feet away from her.
Why callest thou Hilda cruel, when she reads in the setting sun the runes of thy coming joy!" "There is no joy for me," returned Edith, plaintively; and I have that on my heart," she added, with a sudden and almost fierce change of tone, "which at last I will dare to speak.
I sha'n't be long, but it's not possible to start Pussy Battersby off on the first hop. She'll want to titivate a little." "If you think I'll be any use " "Of course you will. You're very nearly as respectable to look at as Pussy Battersby." "I shall hate to see Hilda crying." "Then cheer her up. Good-bye for the present." This time Lalage really did mount the bicycle.
"He is truly a noble child, though his complexion shows more of his northern than his southern blood," observed the captain. "That child! oh, you are mistaken!" exclaimed Hilda, "Have you not heard that my own Hernan was carried off?" And she told him all that had occurred.
He was your first love; but young maidens are not always constant, and one flame is sometimes extinguished by another!" Hilda shook her head, and turned away. She had spoken the truth, however, in alleging that torpor, rather than fire, was what she had to dread.
Then at the sound of a pudgy blow upon a table or high abusive accents in the rapid, elaborate cadences of the domiciled East Indian tongue, Hari Babu would glance at Gobind Babu with a careful smile, for the manager-sahib who dispensed so much galli was now receiving the same, and defenceless. The manager sat at his desk when Hilda went in.
As he moved down the street his face was mournful and his shoulders were drooped a stage invalid. When Hilda saw him coming she started up and gave a little cry of delight; but as she noted his woebegone appearance, a very real paleness came to her cheeks and very real tears to her great dark eyes. Mr. Feuerstein sank slowly into the seat beside her. "Soul's wife," he murmured.
Doctor McKenzie on one side of the fire with his cigar, Emily on the other side with her knitting. Jean between them in a low chair, a knot of Derry's violets fragrant against the gray of her gown, her fingers idle. "Why aren't you knitting?" the Doctor asked. "I don't have to set a good example to Emily." "And you do to Hilda?" He threw back his head and laughed. "You needn't laugh.
You see, I expected to meet you in Boston ere this, and that is so much better than writing; and now I must write after all, and instead of its being from me in Boston to you in New York, it is from me here in the "White City" such a city, Hilda! to you in Boston, and at Nellie Trent's.
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