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Updated: May 27, 2025
She cried softly in the dark because she could not say her prayers. The tumult in her heart was too loud. She received Rosamond's careless chiding for her unconventional behavior with an uneasy feeling. Her divinity was showing the first flaw. "I don't think I was entirely to blame, even though I did feel shy at first," she defended herself with some hesitation.
He begged her to do him the honor to take a seat, and stood before her trimming and comporting himself with an eager solicitude, which was chiefly benevolent. Rosamond's first question was, whether her husband had called on Mr. Trumbull that morning, to speak about disposing of their house.
I'll go the very first minute after I've straightened you up and had some breakfast. I'm so glad it isn't my lesson morning." Rosamond's improvement delighted her, and she danced off to attend to her various duties with a light heart. Breakfast over, she did her errand, and after a short walk in the Park she came back to find Rosamond in a flush of fever.
A shadow passed over Rosamond's face, and she said involuntarily, "I could be happy with Mr. Browning if we were poor." Marie started and answered quickly, "What has Mr. Browning to do with my story?" "Nothing, nothing," returned Rosamond, "only I was thinking that if you loved Richard as well as I do Mr. Browning, you would not have cared for money." "But I didn't," returned Marie.
She had sprung up with relief when Constance's knock gave her the chance to escape, and in spite of Rosamond's rather absent protests, she had gone downstairs with Constance. The tea-room was very full that afternoon and Doris had little time for talk, but she asked Patricia to stay for a chat after the samovar was taken away, and Patricia very willingly promised.
With much reluctance, Mr. Temple submitted to postpone the day promised for his marriage; but both Mr. and Mrs. Percy so strongly supported Rosamond's arguments, that he was compelled to be prudent. Rosamond now thought only of her sister's approaching nuptials. Mrs. Hungerford and Mrs. Mortimer arrived in town, and all Mr. and Mrs.
As she spoke they came to a milliner's shop, the windows of which were decorated with ribbons and lace, and festoons of artificial flowers. "Oh, mamma, what beautiful roses! Won't you buy some of them?" "No, my dear." "Why?" "Because I don't want them, my dear." They went a little farther, and came to another shop, which caught Rosamond's eye.
Patrick, she said aloud, 'I didn't want to keep on finding fault this first time of Rosamond's seeing you all, but I must say to you, now that we are alone, that I am surprised at your not knowing that it is not polite to go on reading in a corner when any one comes to see you. It is not polite even to me. 'I didn't know you'd come to see me, said Pat gruffly, 'and I don't like girls.
You know I never do more than tell the bare facts not like Rosamond's journal with which, by-the-bye, Gascoigne has fallen in love. He sighs, and wishes that Heaven had blessed him with such a sister for sister, read wife. I hope this will encourage Rosamond to write again immediately.
"No, indeed, aunt," said Rosamond, with emphasis. "Then you are quite confident that Mr. Lydgate has a serious attachment to you?" Rosamond's cheeks by this time were persistently burning, and she felt much mortification. She chose to be silent, and her aunt went away all the more convinced. Mr.
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