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Updated: June 22, 2025
Henriette left me and quickly returned, introducing the new candidate. At the first glimpse I recognised Brigitta Rupert, that haughty girl, who had been my early friend and companion at Saint Aure, but who found it impossible to continue her friendship and favour to a humble milliner's girl.
Behind stood a plainly dressed woman, evidently her maid, carrying a flat dressing-case. There was a brief colloquy between the three. It ended in dressing-case, a pile of books, a reading lamp, and a formidable array of hat-boxes, and milliner's parcels being placed upon the rack and vacant seats in my compartment, and immediately afterwards Mrs. Smith-Lessing herself entered.
Look at those girls arm in arm, off to their little milliner's shop. Hear them laugh! You don't hear anything like that, Julien, on the top of the hill." "Of course," Julien remarked, stifling a yawn, "if you've come to Paris to be moral " "Not I!" Kendricks broke in roughly. "Bless you, I'm one of the worst. A wild night in Paris calls me even now from any part of the world.
But, in revenge, there was not a milliner's shop, or a lingere's, in all our quartier Latin, which he did not industriously frequent, and of which he was not the oracle.
He had also married, for her fortune, a lame daughter of a tailor, who brought him a fortune of two thousand livres from whom he has since been divorced, leaving her to shift for herself as she can, in a small milliner's shop at Limoges, where her husband was born in 1763.
I had scarce shut the coach doors up, but I saw the milliner's maid and five or six more come running out into the street, and crying out as if they were frightened. They did not cry 'Stop thief! because nobody ran away, but I could hear the word 'robbed, and 'lace, two or three times, and saw the wench wringing her hands, and run staring to and again, like one scared.
Miss Maggie was wonderfully good company. As the summer advanced, however, he did not see so much of her as he wanted to, for Father Duff's increasing infirmities made more and more demands on her time. The Martin girls were still there. Annabelle was learning the milliner's trade, and Florence had taken a clerkship for afternoons during the summer.
"Flowers are good for the soul and the mind as well as books," she explained, "and if so be some one comes in and can't find the book they want, 'twon't hurt 'em to see a posy." There was the Sloan family, decked out in the leavings of a milliner's shop and bringing as offering a worn copy of one of Mary J. Holmes' novels.
Dicky Merritt took out of it a paper. It was the marriage licence. The Little Milliner's eyes were painful to see; she was not dying happy. The Postmaster, too, moved his head from side to side in trouble. He reached over and took her hand. She drew it back, shuddering a little. "The ring! The ring!" she whispered. "It is lost," he said. Vic, who was at the woman's head, understood.
So much for the derivation of the name which the sailors applied to the Lieutenant. From what sea-alcove, from what mermaid's milliner's shop, hast thou emerged, Selvagee! with that dainty waist and languid cheek? What heartless step-dame drove thee forth, to waste thy fragrance on the salt sea-air?
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