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Updated: June 3, 2025
The air was alive with the breath of the sea from which the fresh wind blew. He walked home with a quick step like a boy. He was smiling, and fast to his breast, like a beloved child, he clasped his dream again. There had been considerable discussion among the ladies of the Carroll family with regard to the necessary finery for Ina's bridal.
I used to peek in at them, never so softly, in Dona Ina's living-room; Raphael-eyed little imps, going sidewise on their knees to rest them from the bare floor, candles lit on the mantel to give a religious air, and a great sheaf of wild bloom before the Holy Family.
Ina's plump figure was fitted in the stern, the child Monona affixed, and the boat put off, bow well out of water. On this pleasure ride the face of the wife was as the face of the damned. It was true that she revered her husband's opinions above those of all other men. In politics, in science, in religion, in dentistry she looked up to his dicta as to revelation. And was he not a magistrate?
When Piers did eventually read the letter, he smiled at this point, a smile that was not altogether good to see. He was just going out to the Casino with Crowther. The latter had gone to fetch a coat, and he had occupied the few moments of waiting with Ina's letter. He was still smiling over the open page when Crowther joined him; but he folded the letter at once, and they went out together.
He did not notice her, but went directly to his box, which had a lock, opened it, and took out a pile of letters. Charlotte stood looking at him. He looked very good and very handsome to her. She thought to herself how very much better-looking he was than Ina's husband.
I'll get you a ripping one to make up." Ina nodded. "That'll be quite amusing. Everyone will think that you're really in earnest at last. Poor Dick will be furious when he knows." "You'll probably console him pretty soon," returned Piers. "Think so?" Ina's eyes narrowed a little; she looked at Piers speculatively. "That's what you want to believe, is it?" "I? Of course not!" Piers laughed again.
"Did I not know that Oswald, son of Owen the Cornish prince, was by this time in Glastonbury, I should have said he was here, so great is the likeness. It is a marvel. "Now, Lord, you will forgive me, no doubt." "Ay, freely," I said, turning round sharply. "That is, if your friend has a sword as good as this," and I shewed him the gemmed hilt of Ina's gift from beneath the folds of my great cloak.
She now groped for some neutral fact, and mentioned that he was going to take her and Jenny for ice cream that night. Ina's irritation found just expression in office of motherhood. "I won't have you downtown in the evening," she said. "But you let me go last night." "All the better reason why you should not go to-night." "I tell you," cried Dwight. "Why not all walk down?
When Cornish actually proposed to bring some music to the Deacons', Ina turned toward Dwight Herbert all the facets of her responsibility. And Ina's sense of responsibility toward Di was enormous, oppressive, primitive, amounting, in fact, toward this daughter of Dwight Herbert's late wife, to an ability to compress the offices of stepmotherhood into the functions of the lecture platform.
He is in a regiment of Lancers, but I couldn't get any particulars out of him. He didn't choose to be communicative, so of course I left him alone. He is turning white about the temples; did you know?" Avery braced herself to answer the blunt question. There was something merciless about Ina's straight regard.
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