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Updated: May 7, 2025
The mild nature of the editor might have yielded to his violence, but the martial spirit of General Triscoe was roused. He shrugged the gendarme's hand from his shoulder, and with a voice as furious as his own required him, in English, to say what the devil he meant.
Adding with the Triscoes, and March saw nothing that was not merely friendly, or at the most fatherly, in the general's behavior toward her. If Mrs. Adding or Miss Triscoe saw more, they hid it in a guise of sisterly affection for each other.
I think Burnamy has got no more than he deserved, and that he's well rid of her. I can't imagine a broken engagement that would more completely meet my approval. As the case stands, they have my blessing." "Don't say that, dearest! You know you don't mean it." "I do; and I advise you to keep your hands off. You've done all and more than you ought to propitiate Miss Triscoe.
Adding till March helped Kenby to account for his presence; then she relaxed in an effect of security so tacit that words overstate it, and began to make fun of Rose. March could not find that Miss Triscoe looked unhappy, as his wife had said; he thought simply that she had grown plainer; but when he reported this, she lost her patience with him.
"Ah, thank you, Lili," he said, with a humility which confirmed Mrs. March in her instant belief that he had been offering himself to Miss Triscoe and been rejected. After gulping his coffee, he turned to her: "I want to say good-by. I'm going away." "From Carlsbad?" asked Mrs. March with a keen distress. The water came into his eyes. "Don't, don't be good to me, Mrs. March! I can't stand it.
And from the very fact that he was disappointed, he would be all the more apt to rush into a flirtation with somebody else." Miss Triscoe took down her handkerchief from a face that had certainly not been beautified by grief. "I didn't blame him for the flirting; or not so much. It was his keeping it from me afterwards. He ought to have told me the very first instant we were engaged.
Kenby seemed to think it quite natural she should wish to see the manoeuvres, and not at all strange that she should come to them with General Triscoe and his daughter. He asked if March would not go with him to call upon her after breakfast, and as this was in the line of his own instructions from Mrs. March, he went. They found Mrs.
March, there is something I should like to tell you about, if you will let me." "Why, certainly, Mr. Burnamy," she began, but she saw that he did not wish her to continue. "Because," he went on, "it's a little matter that I shouldn't like to go wrong in." He told her of his having overheard what Miss Triscoe had said to her father, and his belief that she was talking about the lower berth.
Most of those who took part were of the race gifted in art and finance; its children excelled in the music, and its fathers counted the gate-money during the last half of the programme, with an audible clinking of the silver on the table before them. Miss Triscoe was with her father, and Mrs. March was herself chaperoned by Mr. Burnamy: her husband had refused to come to the entertainment.
He succeeded in relieving her of it; and then he led the way out of the station on the left of the general, while Miss Triscoe brought up the rear. From the window of the train as it drew out Mrs. March tried for a glimpse of the omnibus in which her proteges were now rolling away together.
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