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Well, she would think of it. And meanwhile suddenly the black mood was gone! That night, after Mr. Jefferson's unexpected proposal that she should assist him in his literary work, Georgiana, running out upon an errand in the business part of the village, encountered James Stuart. This had been a not infrequent happening in days past, but since Jeannette's arrival it had not once occurred.
When they returned to the porch it was to hear an outcry from Jeannette's mother: "Chester Crofton! Have you gone absolutely crazy?" "I think so, mother. Positively dippy. Got it in its worst form. It's been coming on me for some time, but it's taken me now, for better or for worse. I'm going to buy that small farm across the road and try what I can do." "I'll back you," came in Mr.
The gentlemen took them and thanked her, and one told of his own little Mary at home, far away over the great sea. Jeannette often thinks of her, and wonders whether her papa has gone home to her. While the gentlemen talked, Jeannette's brother Joseph sat upon the broad stone doorstep and listened.
He had been brought on by them when they were summoned to Jeannette's bedside. He had known the girl from her babyhood, and the signs of past tension were clearly visible in his face as he looked upon his patient's family, though his eyes were very bright and his lips were smiling.
He took a seat and watched us carelessly, now and then smiling at Jeannette's chatter as a giant might smile upon a pygmy.
Rufus P. Urmy, with her finger marking a paragraph. Mrs. Urmy glanced at it. "I guess it ought to corral him right away," she said, with the merest suspicion of embarrassment. "You see, it's Jeannette's last chance. Two seasons in England and never a catch, so I " "You did it?" Lady Hartley looked at her friend in round-eyed wonder. "I I had to do something," allowed Mrs.
Now I, who am only a year out of college and who never 'came out' in my life, am as keen at the game of being grown up as if I were just putting up my hair for the first time. Well, Jeannette's been keeping up the pace all winter, is thoroughly worn out and unhappy, and doesn't know what to do with herself.
"Good-night, Georgiana dear," Stuart responded cheerfully. But the last word was under his breath. "I positively didn't know how shabby the house was till I'd read Jeannette's letter of acceptance!" She did not say it to her father not Georgiana Warne. She said it not to James Stuart, nor to Mr. E. C. Jefferson. Being Georgiana, she said it to no one but her slightly daunted self.
But you're not up," replied Georgiana, regarding the vision with critical eyes. Jeannette's gaze left the trim morning garb of the young cook, her perfectly arranged hair, her whole aspect of efficiency, and dropped to her own highly inappropriate attire, and she flushed a little. But she held her ground. "You didn't call me, and when I woke it was so near six I didn't dare wait to dress.
As I looked at Jeannette's beautiful face, her delicate eagle profile, her fair skin and light blue eyes, I recalled this conversation with vivid indignation. The surgeon, at least, should be convinced of his mistake.
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