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She would have felt that she was compromising truth by giving hope, and dignity by uttering consolation for the loss of that which she considered better lost than retained. Lady Selina's only recipe was endurance and occupation. And at any rate, she practised what she preached; she was never idle, and she never complained.
"Of course you do. These old aunts are great," said Jim, with a friendly nod. "I've got one myself up in the country. Wears bonnets and gowns that look as if they came out of the Ark. But, golly, she can make doughnuts and apple pies that beat the band! I'd rather spend a week at Aunt Selina's than any place I know. Going to walk or ride, Dan?" "Walk," was the answer. "I generally do.
"It's bad for your poor eyes," Betty's tone was exactly the proper bedside pitch, low and sugary. "Sweet and low, sweet and low, wind of the western sea!" Dal hummed outside. "Put up those window shades!" Aunt Selina's voice was strong enough. "What's in that bottle?" Betty was still mild. She swished to the window and raised the shade. "I'm SO sorry you are ill," she said sympathetically.
He thought that delicacy should induce him to forbear expatiating upon Selina's virtues and accomplishments, or upon his passion. He carried this delicacy so far, that sometimes for a fortnight or three weeks he never mentioned her name. He could not but observe that Mrs. Wharton did not like him the less for this species of sacrifice. It may be observed, that Mrs.
Vickers opened the door a little wider, and, stepping inside, closed it softly behind him and dropped into a chair. "Don't be alarmed, my lad," he said, benevolently. "Selina's all right." "What d'ye want?" repeated Mr. Tasker. "Who told you to come round here?" Mr. Vickers looked at him in reproachful surprise.
Selina was standing on a plank at a considerable height from the ground. In a rage Emilia pushed her off. Isabella held her tongue as she hated Selina." "But the substitution?" "Well. In the fall Selina's face was much mutilated.
The first object that greeted Edgardo, as he rode up to the station on the arrival of the train, was the body of Burke the Slogger hanging on the cowcatcher; the second was the face of his deserted wife looking from the window of a second-class carriage. A nameless terror seemed to have taken possession of Clarissa, Lady Selina's maid, as she rushed into the presence of her mistress.
Hilary often remembered afterward, how much more comfortable the end of the journey was than she had expected how Johanna lay at ease, with her feet in Elizabeth's lap, wrapped in Elizabeth's best woolen shawl; and how, when Selina's whole attention was turned to an ingenious contrivance with a towel and fork and Elizabeth's basket, for stopping the rain out of the carriage roof she became far less disagreeable, and even a little proud of her own cleverness.
Such an enumeration was much less interesting to the girl than it would have been a year before: she herself had now seen a great many places and people and the freshness of her curiosity was gone. That was what she had dreamed of before she came to England, but in Selina's set the dream had not come true.
Whatever reluctance she had originally felt to her son's marriage with this young lady, it must be repeated, to her ladyship's credit, that Selina's honourable and disinterested conduct had won her entire approbation. She wrote, therefore, in the strongest terms to press the immediate conclusion of that match, which she now considered as the only chance of securing her son's morals and happiness.
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