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Updated: May 11, 2025
"You used to say he was a man of ideas," she retorted, unconciliated. "I expected him to be interesting, at least. I'm going to the city in the morning to have my spring gowns fitted. Let me know when Mr. Gouvernail is gone; I shall be at my Aunt Octavie's." That night she went and sat alone upon a bench that stood beneath a live oak tree at the edge of the gravel walk.
Neither the mother nor the daughter had much previous knowledge of the concern they had started, and they were consequently not very discriminating in the selection of their brands; but what was lacking in connoisseurship was fully made up for by Mrs. L.'s obliging manners and by Octavie's blue eyes.
"Yes, a charming necessity," echoed his wife, and, then she continued: "The fact that Octavie is engaged suggests a double wedding. They will marry in June, if the weather is good." "What has the weather to do with Octavie's wedding?" inquired Mr. Cruger. "Simply that it's an automobile wedding, Andrew," replied his wife. Mr. Cruger looked almost pained.
Octavie's silly prattle about a young and handsome foreign nobleman had had a marked effect upon him, and Hélène's heart beat slightly faster as she pondered over this phase of the matter. "He's actually jealous," she thought, and she enjoyed the idea. Beverly's earnest manliness made her admire him greatly. It almost reconciled her to Octavie's silliness!
Louis XVIII. flew into a royal and truly Bourbon passion, but the tempest broke on Octavie's head. He would not believe her. Octavie offered immediate proof, begging the King to write a note which must be answered at once.
Louis XVIII. flew into a royal and truly Bourbon passion, but the tempest broke on Octavie's head. He would not believe her. Octavie offered immediate proof, begging the King to write a note which must be answered at once.
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