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With these words he left the room. Kitty leaned back in her chair, for she was seized with a fit of trembling that made her unable to rise or speak. Something in the tone of Hugo's speech had frightened her. She was unreasonably suspicious, perhaps, but she had developed a great fear of Hugo's evil designs. He had shown her plainly enough that he had no principle, no conscience, no sense of shame.
His Majesty was gracious and very patient. He listened to the young author's plea, talked book-lore, recited poetry, showed that he knew Hugo's verses, asked after the author's wife, then the baby, and said that the play could not go on. Hugo turned to go. Charles the Tenth called him back, and said that he was glad the author had called in fact, he was about to send for him.
At any rate, he withdrew his opposition, and the two young people were married in October, 1822 both of them being under age, unformed, and immature. Their story is another warning against too early marriage. It is true that they lived together until Mme. Hugo's death a married life of forty-six years yet their story presents phases which would have made this impossible had they not been French.
She glanced at the hand which her lover had just saluted, and was conscious of a subtle want in their reunion.... Hugo's presence in the body had brought up vividly that matter upon which they had broken in May. Of that matter he had said nothing, either yesterday or to-day.
"Hugo!" she would call, standing on the steps, looking out. And the Captain would volunteer carelessly: "Hugo's just gone down the road." One day I heard him answer her with a bitter smile and a wave of his hand towards the lilacs: "Little King Hugo is waiting for you in his kingdom." I saw her start; then she laughed awkwardly to cover her confusion, and went down in search of Lassen.
Don't you remember Victor Hugo's exquisite description of a mother's feelings for a little child in 'Notre Dame de Paris'? I never read any thing more affecting; it's perfectly subduing." "They can't love their children as I did mine," said Mrs. Ferguson: "it's impossible; and, if that's what's called organizing society, I hope our society in America never will be organized.
The rest of the walking party two ladies and two gentlemen besides Deronda had now assembled; and Gwendolen rallying, went with due cheerfulness by the side of Sir Hugo, paying apparently an equal attention to the commentaries Deronda was called upon to give on the various architectural fragments, to Sir Hugo's reasons for not attempting to remedy the mixture of the undisguised modern with the antique which in his opinion only made the place the more truly historical.
I left him with the assurance that he should leave Paris that afternoon. We had arranged the evening before to ascend the Cathedral of Notre Dame, with Victor Hugo's noble romance for our guide. There was nothing in the French capital that I was more anxious to see, and I departed by myself for the church.
We have to make comparisons between La Tristesse d'Olympio, Souvenir, and Le Lac'. That will be something interesting." "The Tristesse d'Olympio?" repeated Giselle, in a tone of interrogation. "You know, of course, that it is Victor Hugo's," said Mademoiselle de Wermant, with a touch of pity. Giselle answered with sincerity and humility, "I only knew that Le Lac was by Lamartine."
'Come, he said feverishly, 'show me how you managed to get to my dome. And he threw open the easternmost window, and she stepped with him out on to the balcony. They looked down across Hugo's little private garden, into the blackness of the court of fountains, whose balconies were vaguely disclosed here and there by the reflection from lit interiors.
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