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Updated: May 4, 2025
The man was summoned, and was dispatched with the message. Emily would have done well, after this, if she had abstained from speaking further of Miss Jethro. But Mirabel's doubts had, unhappily, inspired a similar feeling of uncertainty in her own mind. She was now disposed to attribute the tone of mystery in Alban's unlucky letter to some possible concealment suggested by regard for herself.
Do you understand it now, Cecilia?" "Of course I do! Tell me is Mr. Mirabel's sister older or younger than he is?" "Older." "Is she married?" "She is a widow." "Does she live with her brother?" Alban asked. "Oh, no! She has her own house far away in Northumberland." "Is she near Sir Jervis Redwood?" "I fancy not. Her house is on the coast." "Any children?" Cecilia inquired.
The impression left by Emily's kindness was still fresh in Mirabel's memory: he was in no humor to submit to the jealous resentment of a woman whom he regarded with perfect indifference. Through the varnish of politeness which overlaid his manner, there rose to the surface the underlying insolence, hidden, on all ordinary occasions, from all human eyes.
Why he did not urge this earlier does not appear. Mirabel's advocate first defended from the Bible and the Fathers, the existence of ghosts. The Faculty of Theology, in Paris, had vouched for them only two years before this case, in 1724. The Sorbonne had been as explicit, in 1518.
Are you one of them?" Mirabel's experience of women warned him to try silence as a means of provoking her into speaking plainly. The experiment succeeded: Francine returned to the question that he had put to her, and abruptly answered it. "You may believe me or not, as you like I know of a man who is in love with her. He has had his opportunities; and he has made good use of them.
But with familiarity his caution vanished, and poor Cos lamentably disgraced himself at Sir Charles Mirabel's table, by premature inebriation. A carriage was called for him: the hospitable door was shut upon him.
Ah! that was a name that a little disturbed him; and yet he felt confidence now in Mirabel's prescience; he could not but believe that with time even Mr. Temple might be reconciled!
The stipulations with her lover in view of marriage, her fine lady's delicacy, and fine lady's easy evasions of indelicacy, coquettish airs, and playing with irresolution, which in a common maid would be bashfulness, until she submits to 'dwindle into a wife, as she says, form a picture that lives in the frame, and is in harmony with Mirabel's description of her: 'Here she comes, i' faith, full sail, with her fan spread, and her streamers out, and a shoal of fools for tenders.
You see, I was right; I am always right. But I will confess to you a secret: I never was so right as I have been in the present case. 'Tis the best business that ever was! Some Account of the Party, and Its Result. IN SPITE of the Count Mirabel's inspiring companionship, it must be confessed that Ferdinand's heart failed him when he entered Mr. Temple's house.
He blushed, perhaps, because he had borne them in mind; because he was cautious: because in his letters to Miss Blanche he had from instinct, or honesty perhaps, refrained from any avowals which might compromise him. "Don't you remember the lesson I had, sir, in Lady Mirabel's Miss Fotheringay's affair? I am not to be caught again, uncle," Arthur said with mock frankness and humility.
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