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This amusement lasted till half-past eleven, when they returned to the hotel for Juliet to give the final pats to her hair, and to retilt her hat to an angle possibly more becoming, before she started to keep her appointment with the solicitors.
"You do it beautifully. Why didn't you finish the line?" "Which one? 'Lest thy love prove likewise variable'? Juliet was saying it to a MAN, you know. She seems to have been ready to worry about his constancy pretty early in their affair!" Her companion was again thoughtful. "Yes," he said, seeming to be rather irksomely impressed with Alice's suggestion. "Yes; it does appear so."
Well, it doesn't much matter whether she was Juliet or not, now she's going to be yours, and to save you from that pasty no matter she's over and done with, but I reckon she's laughing on the wrong side of her face this morning." Miss Pinckney rose from the table. The absence of Phyl did not disturb her.
"But now that I know you are really innocent, and I take shame to myself for having doubted you, I am willing to marry you, even though my mother withholds her consent." "My darling!" Cuthbert folded the girl in his arms and kissed her. "I now know that you truly love me. Indeed, I never doubted you." "But I doubted myself," said Juliet tearfully.
"What a peculiar goblin it is!" thought Juliet, beginning to forget herself a little in watching and listening to the strange creature. She had often seen him before, but had always turned from him with a kind of sympathetic shame: of course the poor creature could not bear to be looked at; he must know himself improper!
Some, on the other hand, hinted that her husband had himself made away with her for, they argued, what could be easier to a doctor, and why, else, did he make no search for the body? To Dorothy this supposed fact seemed to indicate a belief that she was not dead perhaps a hope that she would sooner betray herself if he manifested no anxiety to find her. But she said nothing of this to Juliet.
Here Juliet entered the room, greeted Mr. Wingfold, and then shook hands with Faber. He was glad the room was dark. "What do you think, Miss Meredith is a man's conscience enough for his guidance?" said the curate. "I don't know any thing about a man's conscience," answered Juliet. "A woman's then?" said the curate. "What else has she got?" returned Juliet.
Dumas fils would never have allowed that. He would have written his play around that thought, and made it indeed a reconciling drama or he would have suppressed the cry. The end of Romeo and Juliet date I confess it? has always hovered for me close to that border which is not sublime. For the hapless lovers missed all for want of a little common sense. There was naught inevitable in their plight.
The doctor would have to be out the greater part of the Sunday, and would gladly leave his wife in such good quarters; the curate would walk out to his preaching in the evening, and drive home with Helen after it, taking Juliet, if she should be able to accompany them.
Her maxims and principles, if she could be said to have any of the latter, were not a little opposed to her husband's; but she died when Juliet was only five years old, and the child grew to be almost the companion of her father. Hence it came that she heard much religious conversation, often partaking not a little of the character of discussion and even of dispute.
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