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"And Charlton?" she said after a few minutes' tearful musing. "I had the pleasure of Capt. Rossitur's company to breakfast, the next morning, and I am happy to report that there is no danger of any trouble arising there." "How shall I ever thank you, sir!" said Fleda with trembling lips. His smile was so peculiar she almost thought he was going to tell her. But just then Mrs.
May I own that my zeal in this cause is quickened by the unspeakable excellencies of Mr. Rossitur's lovely niece which I have learned to appreciate with my whole heart and be forgiven? And may I hope for the kind offices and intercession of the lady I have the honour of addressing, with her niece Miss Ringgan, that my reward, the single word of encouragement I ask for, may be given me?
All was forgotten, the wrong, and the needlessness, and the indignation with which she had sometimes thought of it; Fleda remembered nothing but love and pity, and threw herself upon his neck with such tears of tenderness and sympathy, such kisses of forgiveness and comfort-speaking, as might have broken a stouter heart than Mr. Rossitur's.
Yet her trembling fingers, in their agony, moved caressingly among her aunt's hair and over her brow, as she begged her when she could, she was not able at first to let her know the cause that was grieving her. The straitened clasp of Mrs. Rossitur's arms, and her increased moaning, gave only an answer of pain. But Fleda repeated the question. Mrs.
All the rest being busy with their own affairs she quietly got up and opened the door and looked out, and finding that she was right, went softly into the hall. In one corner lay her cousin Rossitur's beautiful black pointer, which she well remembered, and had greatly admired several times.
"How far are we from Queechy, Sir?" said Hugh. "You're not from it at all, Sir," said the man, politely. "You're in Queechy, Sir, at present." "Is this the right road from Montepoole to Queechy village?" "It is not, Sir. It is a very tortuous direction, indeed. Have I not the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Rossitur's young gentleman?" Mr.
'While they go on refining' the toast burns!" The coffee and the omelette and the toast and Mr. Rossitur's favourite French salad, were served with beautiful accuracy; and he was quite satisfied. But aunt Lucy looked sadly at Fleda's flushed face and saw that her appetite seemed to have gone off in the steam of her preparations. Fleda had a kind of heart-feast however which answered as well.
Rossitur's business affairs at the West must have disappointed him; and resolved not to remember that Michigan was in the map of North America. Still they talked on, through the afternoon and evening, all of them except him: he was moody and silent. Fleda felt the cloud overshadow sadly her own gaiety; but Mrs.
Don't take it so uncle Rolf will have money again only just now he is out, I suppose and we'll get somebody else in the kitchen that will do nicely you see if we don't." Mrs. Rossitur's embrace said what words were powerless to say. "But I don't know how we're to find any one here in the country I don't know who'll go to look I am sure your uncle won't want to, and Hugh wouldn't know "
So she and Hugh had their dinner in aunt Lucy's dressing-room by themselves; and a very nice dinner it was, Fleda thought, and Rosaline, Mrs. Rossitur's French maid, was well affected and took admirable care of them.
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