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Updated: May 12, 2025
Palliser as a little sunbeam brightening the pathway of T. Tembarom, was, in the particular existing circumstances, all that could be desired of fine humor. It somewhat recalled the situation of the "Ladies" of the noble houses of Pevensy, Talchester, and Stone unconsciously passing in review for the satisfaction of little Miss Hutchinson.
"He is not in the least forward," Beatrice Talchester said, the time arriving when she and her sisters occasionally talked him over with their special friends, the Granthams, "and he is not forever under one's feet, as the pushing sort usually is.
Talchester is Lord Pevensy's family name," Palliser explained. "They are girls who have pretty little noses and bright complexions and eyes. Lady Gwynedd and Lady Honora both have quite fascinating dimples." "Dimples!" exclaimed his companion. "Good business." "Do you like dimples particularly?" Palliser inquired with an impartial air. "I'd always make a bee-line for a dimple," replied Mr.
"He's been adored by salesladies in New York," said Honora, "and he can't understand it." "He's been liked," Amabel Grantham summed him up. "He's a likable thing. He's even rather a dear. I've begun to like him myself." "I hear you are learning to play croquet," the Duke of Stone remarked to him a day or so later. "How do you like it?" "Lady Gwynedd Talchester is teaching me," Tembarom answered.
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