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Updated: June 28, 2025
After a while she went on, "I don't know as we've got any right to keep the letter. It belongs to her, don't it?" "I guess it belongs to me, as much as it does to her," said Clementina. "If it's to her, it's for me. I am not going to send it, Mrs. Landa." They were still in this conclusion when early in the following afternoon Miss Milray's cards were brought up for Mrs. Lander and Miss Claxon.
"I know what they thought. But I don't care! I should do it right over again!" Mrs. Milray's happiness in the day's triumph was so great that she could indulge a generous emotion. She caught the girl in her arms. "I want to kiss you; I want to hug you, Clementina!" The notion of a dance for the following night to celebrate the success of the house in the coaching parade came to Mrs.
She did not really dislike her sister-in-law enough to do her a wrong; she was only willing that she should do herself a wrong. But one of the most disappointing things in all hostile operations is that you never can know what the enemy would be at; and Mrs. Milray's manoeuvres were sometimes dictated by such impulses that her strategy was peculiarly baffling.
But you've made me break an engagement, Miss Claxon. I was going to tea at Miss Milray's. She promised me I should meet you there." It seemed a great joke; and Clementina offered to carry his excuses to Miss Milray, when she went to make her own. She, went the next morning. Mrs.
"We ha'n't bound to stay in Florence," said Mrs. Lander, thoughtfully. "I only took the rooms by the week, and we can go, any time, Clementina, if you are uncomf'table bein' here on Miss Milray's account. We could go to Rome; they say Rome's a nice place; or to Egypt." "Mrs. Milray's in Egypt," Clementina suggested. "That's true," Mrs. Lander admitted, with a sigh.
Lander with state that was lost in the soubrette-like volatility of her flight from them the next moment. "Goodness, I forgot all about Mr. Milray's breakfast!" She ran back to the table she had left on the other side of the room. "Who is that, Clementina?" asked Mrs. Lander, on their way to their rooms. Clementina explained as well as she could, and Mrs.
The theatrical people thought none the worse of her for her simple-hearted ness, apparently; they were both very sweet to her, and wanted her to promise to come and see them in their little box in St. John's Wood. Once, indeed, Clementina thought she saw relenting in Mrs. Milray's glance, but it hardened again as Lord Lioncourt and Mr. Ewins came up to her, and began to talk with her.
They represented motives in color and design sometimes tasteless enough, and sometimes so nearly very good that Mrs. Milray's heart was a great deal in her mouth, as they arrived, each with its hotel-cry roared and shrilled from a score of masculine and feminine throats, and finally spelled for distinctness sake, with an ultimate yell or growl.
You are very young, and inexperienced and ignorant, but that will not save you in the eyes of the world if you keep on." Mrs. Milray rose. "And now I will leave you to think of what I have said. Here is the letter for Miss Milray " Clementina shook her head. "I don't want it." "You don't want it? But I have written it at Mr. Milray's request, and I shall certainly leave it with you!"
He looked up at her with a smile, and he could not see how forlornly she returned it. As the day passed, Mrs. Milray's angry eyes seemed to search her out for scorn whenever Clementina found herself the centre of her last night's celebrity. Many people came up and spoke to her, at first with a certain expectation of knowingness in her, which her simplicity baffled.
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