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It was not modern, it was not conscious, it would produce no impression in Broadway; the small, serious damsel, in her stiff little dress, only looked like an Infanta of Velasquez. This was enough for Edward Rosier, who thought her delightfully old-fashioned. Her anxious eyes, her charming lips, her slip of a figure, were as touching as a childish prayer.
"I did not know my sister's abilities till lately till you drew them out, Mad. de Rosier, like your drawing upon the screen in sympathetic inks; when you first produced it, I looked, and said there was nothing; and when I looked again, after you had held it to the fire for a few moments, beautiful colours and figures appeared."
He was led to this certainty by the maternal quality in her present dealings with him, when perhaps it should have warned him rather that these cares were not for him. Flossie had somewhat elaborated her dream. Bearing the fascinating name of Muriel Maud, it had grown softer and rosier than ever.
Favoretta usually slept in a little closet within Mrs. Grace's room, so that she foresaw no difficulty in getting her to bed. "I heard! did not you hear a noise, Isabella?" said Matilda. "A noise! No; where?" said Isabella, and went on talking alternately to her mother and Mad. de Rosier, whom she held fast, though they seemed somewhat inclined to retire to rest.
By Charles C. Jones Jr., p. 382. On one occasion the natives came from the shore in three canoes, and Rosier remarks of them: "they came directly aboord us and brought us tobacco, which we tooke with them IN THEIR PIPE which was made of earth very strong, but blacke and short, containing a great quantity.
He had never especially delighted in Gilbert Osmond, having a fancy he gave himself airs. But Rosier was not quickly resentful, and where politeness was concerned had ever a strong need of being quite in the right. He looked round him and smiled, all without help, and then in a moment, "I saw a jolly good piece of Capo di Monte to-day," he said.
Where was the young man who had been my fellow-victim? Loss of this special permit caused me considerable inconvenience, for I had to go to Moscow, and the Terror raging there, I had to get another permit before I could pass and repass the military cordon. Yes, Julie Rosier was a mystery. Indeed, the whole affair was a complete enigma.
Her face had flushed rosy with pleasure, and grew rosier and brighter still as she took the rich morocco-bound thing from Godfrey's hand into her own. Daintily she peeped within the boards, and the gilding of the leaves responded in light to her smile. "Poetry!" she cried, in a tone of delight. "Is it really for me, Cousin Godfrey? Do you think I shall be able to understand it?"
As it got towards four o'clock, Mad. de Rosier found it more difficult to obtain civil answers to her inquiries, for almost all the tradesmen were at dinner, and when they came to the door, looked out of humour, at being interrupted, and disappointed at not meeting with a customer.
Indeed, how either is ever going to know I scarcely see, unless I make a formal statement." Suddenly Martine turned, and caught sight of her expression. "All I have for your thoughts! What wouldn't I give to know them!" Her face became rosier than the firelight warranted as she laughed outright and shook her head. "No matter," he said; "I am content to hear you laugh like that."
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