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Updated: May 27, 2025
Her affection was as intuitively ready to sanctify Rosamond's slightest caprices as to excuse Rosamond's most thoughtless faults. So she went to London cheerfully, to witness with pride all the little triumphs won by her sister's beauty; to hear, and never tire of hearing, all that admiring friends could say in her sister's praise. At the end of the season Mr.
He was fuming under a repressive law which he was forced to acknowledge: he was dangerously poised, and Rosamond's voice now brought the decisive vibration. In flute-like tones of sarcasm she said "You can easily go after Mrs. Casaubon and explain your preference." "Go after her!" he burst out, with a sharp edge in his voice.
Rosamond's thoughts turned rather to the past than to the future: she recollected and compared words and looks, yet found insuperable difficulty in connecting all she had ever before known or fancied of Caroline with what she had just seen and heard.
Their various merits of simplicity, pathos, or elegance, were compared and discussed. After the Reliques of Ancient Poetry had been sufficiently admired, Rosamond and Caroline mentioned two modern compositions, both by the same author, each exquisite in its different style of poetry one beautiful, the other sublime. Rosamond's favourite was the Exile of Erin; Caroline's, the Mariners of England.
Rosamond's knight only leaped right over it, facing honestly and alertly both ways. "Chess would be good for nothing less than once a week," said Olivia. "I came to you almost the very first, out of the family," she added, with a little height in her manner. "I hope you won't break it up." "Break it up! No, indeed!
Nancy apparently had the worst of it, and she was sat upon literally and heavily and then fed with chocolates. Scraps of conversation floated over the walls: "Rosamond's in thirty-seven very, very mad is Rosamond. Hope we'll have Pat as prefect." "No such luck. Pat is in number ten." "There's a new girl in twenty-five" this from Nancy in a lowered voice.
About this time he was engaged in a cause for his brother's friend and Rosamond's admirer, Mr. Gresham. A picture-dealer had cheated this gentleman, in the sale of a picture of considerable value. Mr. Gresham had bargained for, and bought, an original Guido, wrote his name on the back of it, and directed that it should be sent to him.
Her affection for her friends, and her fear of doing wrong on such occasions, awakened her judgment, and so controlled her imagination, that she then proved herself uncommonly judicious and discreet. Prudence had not, it is true, been a part of Rosamond's character in childhood; but, in the course of her education, a considerable portion of it had been infused by a very careful and skilful hand.
She did so the more readily, because she imagined she recognised in the visage, which she partially saw, the features of the woman whom she had met with at Rosamond's Well, and which had appeared to her peculiarly harsh and suspicious.
The next half-holiday came on a Saturday the Saturday of that same week and as the weather was lovely just then, Aunt Mattie begged her sister to allow the three elder boys to spend it at Caryll, as she had planned with Rosamond. So it was arranged that, as soon as morning lessons were over, the four children should walk back together in time for early dinner at Rosamond's home.
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