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Updated: June 5, 2025
Abandoned in their corner, with their heads bent together over the sums, the two outsiders clung to each other in a common misery and isolation. Miss Quincey was well aware that she was of no account at St. Sidwell's. She supposed that it was because she had never taken her degree.
That hint afforded him by Fanny was invaluable; it had enabled him to appeal to Sidwell's nature by the ardent expression of what was sincerest in his own. She too, he at length understood, had the aristocratic temperament. This explained her to him, supplied the key of doubts and difficulties which had troubled him in her presence.
Sidwell's; Rhoda who had conceived that pretty little idea of flowers "with love"; and Rhoda who had inspired the affectionate messages of the staff. But Miss Quincey never saw it; for a subtler web than that of Rhoda's spinning was woven about her eyes.
He loved her, and consciously nourished hope, but for the present there was nothing intolerable in separation. His state of mind resulted partly from nervous reaction, and in part from a sense that only by silent suffering could his dignity in Sidwell's eyes be ultimately restored. Between the evil past and the hopeful future must be a complete break.
Sidwell's; she was part and parcel of the place; her blood and bones had been built into its very walls, and her removal was not to be contemplated without dismay. Why, what would a procession be like without Miss Quincey to enliven it?
"Dakota," said Ben, laconically. Sidwell's gaze centred on the sombrero. "Cattle raising, perhaps?" he ventured. Ben nodded. "Yes, I have a few head east of the river." He returned the other's look, and Sidwell had the impression that a searchlight was suddenly shifted upon him. "Ever been out there?" The city man indicated an affirmative. "Yes, twice: the last time about four years ago.
Godwin looked at the younger girl; it seemed to him that there was an excess of colour in her cheeks. Had a glance from Sidwell rebuked her? With his usual rapidity of observation and inference he made much of this trifle. Contrary to what he expected, Sidwell's next remark was in a tone of cheerfulness, almost of gaiety.
My best reason for disapproving your contemplated action I gave you first, and you've not considered it at all. It's the injustice you do to a girl who doesn't realize what she is doing. With your disposition, Chad, you'd take away from her something which neither God nor man can ever give her back her trust in life." Sidwell's long fingers restlessly twirled the glass before him.
Sidwell's intimacy with Miss Moorhouse put her in no better position than the others for forming an opinion; she could only suspect that the irony which flavoured Sylvia's talk with and concerning the Radical, intimated a lurking kindness. Buckland's preference was easily understood, and its growth for five or six years seemed to promise stability.
Sidwell's with a reserved and secret smile playing about her face; so secret and so reserved, that nobody, not even Miss Quincey, could tell what it was playing at. Miss Quincey was meditating an audacity. That night she took pen and paper up to her bedroom and sat down to write a little note. Sat down to write it and got up again; wrote it and tore it up, and sat down to write another.
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