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Updated: June 19, 2025
"Does not that green boat belong to Miss Meadowsweet?" interrupted Bertram. "Look, Miss Bell, I am sure that is Miss Meadowsweet's boat." "Yes, that's Beatrice," said Matty, in an indifferent tone. "She generally goes for a row in the evening." "All alone like that?" "Yes, Mrs. Meadowsweet is such a coward. She is afraid of the water." "Poor Miss Meadowsweet, how sad for her to be by herself!"
Their tongues were not so cruel as those of the women, but still their tongues did wag, and there was more than one wife in the town who felt the effect of Beatrice Meadowsweet's engagement for many a long day, because the father of the family had jeopardized a considerable sum in a wager on the probable issue of events.
"You mistake me, Kate," said her mother, shrinking back from her daughter's eyes, as if she had received a blow. "I want you to have the pleasure of Beatrice Meadowsweet's friendship." "Oh, yes," replied Catherine, relieved. "And," continued the mother, her voice growing firm and her dark eyes meeting her daughter's fully, "I don't mean to be out in the cold, so I shall make a friend of Mrs.
"He won't get her for his pains," retorted Mrs. Butler. "Those who don't pay their way won't touch Beatrice Meadowsweet's fortune. But, there, I'm sick of the subject. Let's talk of something else. Isn't that Mrs. Gorman Stanley coming down the street? Open the window and call out to her, Maria. Ask her if she wants me to send her round one pound of butter, or two from the farm?"
Ah! you could get a stylish hat in Northbury in those days. Poor man, he had the custom of all the country round. There was no shop like Meadowsweet's. Well, he made his fortune in it, and he died full of money and much respected. What could man do more?" "And your daughter Beatrice resembles her father?" "She does, Mrs. Bertram. He was a very genteel man a cut above me, as I said before.
My word, child, is that a ring at the hall door? Then I'll be off, but I'll be in the garden handy within call, in case you should want me, my pet." As Captain Bertram entered the drawing-room Mrs. Meadowsweet's trailing skirts might have been seen disappearing down the steps which led from the French window to the garden.
Meadowsweet's class to go in for strong tea and high living as it was for people of Mrs. Bertram's class to aspire to faded felt in the matter of carpets, and water bewitched in the shape of tea. Each after her kind, Mrs. Bertram murmured. But as she had an object in view it was necessary for her to earn the good-will of the well-to-do widow.
"I'll get it for you," said Albert Bell, blushing crimson as he spoke. He was a very awkward young man, but his heart was as warm as his manners were uncouth. "I'll get it for you, Daisy," he said. His dull eyes had not the power of shining or looking eloquent. He stepped from behind the sofa where his sisters sat, and stumbled over Mrs. Meadowsweet's footstool.
Meadowsweet's, was followed by quite a little mob. Thus time went on apace, and Rumor did his work, each lady saying when she met another: "Well, what's the news? What's the latest? What did you hear last?" Each Hartite bowed coldly to each Beatricite, or else cut each other dead, and, in short, the usual symptoms which accompany civil war made themselves felt.
Or perhaps a retired gentleman, ah, I see Catherine and Mabel coming back. Which was Mr. Meadowsweet's regiment?" Poor Mr. Ingram's face grew absolutely pink. "At some time in his life poor Meadowsweet may have served in the local volunteers," he replied. "He was however, a ah, Miss Catherine, what tempting strawberries!" The rector approached the open French window. Mrs.
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