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Updated: May 22, 2025
Victor had his Nataly before him at a hint from Lady Grace: and he went somewhat further than the exact degree when affirming, that Nataly could not scheme, and was incapable of suspecting. Nataly could perceive things with a certain accuracy: she would not stoop to a meanness. 'Plot? Nataly? said he, and shrugged. In fact, the void of plot, drama, shuffle of excitement, reflected upon Nataly.
Did Nataly read the case: namely, that the crowned collective woman is not to be subdued? And what are we to say of the indefinite but forcible Authority, when we see it upholding Mrs. Burman to crush a woman like Nataly! Victor's novel exercises in reflection were bringing him by hard degrees to conceive it to be the impalpable which has prevailing weight.
'Would she to any extent deceive me impose on me here? 'No. 'Ah! Nataly moaned. . . . 'But what? said Dartrey. 'There was no pretence. Her style is not worse than that of some we have seen. There was no effort to deceive. The woman's plain for you and me to read, she has few of the arts; one or two tricks, if you like: and these were not needed for use.
He was as if unlocked; he met Nesta's eyes and ran in a voluble interchange, that gave him flattering after-thoughts; and at the moment sensibly a new and assured, or to some extent assured, station beside a girl so vivid; by which the young lady would be helped to perceive his unvoiced solider gifts. Nataly observed them, thinking of Victor's mastering subtlety.
It's nearly as unceasing as your brother Simeon's old French lady in the ronde with her young bridegroom, till they danced her to pieces. I do get now and then an hour's repose, Nataly added, with a vision springing up of the person to whom the story had applied. 'My dear, you are a good girl to call me Dartrey, the owner of the name said to Nesta.
Their Nesta was heard on the descent of the stairs, with a rattle of Donizetti's Il segreto to the skylights. He performed his never-omitted lover's homage. Nataly enfolded him in a homely smile. 'A country-house? We go and see it to-morrow? 'And you've been pining for a country home, my dear soul. 'After the summer six weeks, the house in London does not seem a home to return to.
He sent back Nesta and mademoiselle, in consequence, at the end of the Green Park. Their dinner-hour was early; Simeon Fenellan, Colney Durance, and Mr. Peridon pleasing to Nataly for his faithful siege of the French fortress were the only guests. When they rose, Nataly drew Victor aside. He came dismayed to Nesta. She ran to her mother. 'Not hear papa speak? Oh, mother, mother!
Of Dudley, there was no word. Nataly shunned his name, with a superstitious dread lest any mention of him should renew pretensions that she hoped, and now supposed, were quite withdrawn. So she had told poor Mr. Barmby only yesterday, at his humble request to know. He had seen Dudley on the pantiles, walking with a young lady, he said.
A fit of shuddering seized Nataly. It grew in violence, and speaking out of it, with a pause of sickly empty chatter of the jaws, she said: 'Always that name? 'Before the maiden name? May have been or not. 'Not, you say? 'I don't accurately know. Dartrey sprang to his legs. 'My dear soul! dear friend one of the best! if we go on fencing in the dark, there'll be wounds.
'Now, if it had been in England, Skips! she said, under her mother's gentle gloom of brows. He made show of melancholy submission. 'There, Skepsey, you have a good excuse, we are sure, Nataly said.
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