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Updated: June 22, 2025
It diffused a certain awkwardness, which Lady Pimlico, as a sympathetic daughter, perhaps desired to rectify in turning to Mrs. Westgate. "I daresay you go out a great deal," she observed. "No, very little. We are strangers, and we didn't come here for society." "I see," said Lady Pimlico. "It's rather nice in town just now." "It's charming," said Mrs. Westgate.
As for models, if there is nothing suitable at Westgate village, you won't mind my importing some, will you?" "No," she said, becoming very serious and gravely interested, as befitted the fiancée of a painter of consequence.
There were several ladies and two or three gentlemen, to whom Mrs. Westgate proceeded to introduce the distinguished strangers. She mentioned a great many names very freely and distinctly; the young Englishmen, shuffling about and bowing, were rather bewildered. The fan was also adorned with pink love knots; but Percy Beaumont declined it, although he was very hot.
Westgate very long to read, but he came out to speak to them more instantly than they could have expected; he had evidently jumped up from his work.
Westgate looked at the young girl with sisterly candor. "I don't care two straws for Mr. Beaumont." "You were certainly very nice to him." "I am nice to everyone," said Mrs. Westgate simply. "To everyone but me," rejoined Bessie, smiling. Her sister continued to look at her; then, at last, "Are you in love with Lord Lambeth?" she asked.
She was perhaps rather too thin, and she was a little pale; but as she moved slowly over the grass, with her arms hanging at her sides, looking gravely for a moment at the sea and then brightly, for all her gravity, at him, Lord Lambeth thought her at least as pretty as Mrs. Westgate, and reflected that if this was the Boston style the Boston style was very charming.
Strange to say, the chill came on him as he passed under the arch of Westgate, and into view of the busy High Street, the lit shops, the passers-by jostling upon the pavements, the running newsboys, the hawkers with their barrows, the soldiers strolling five abreast down the middle of the roadway. Here was the whole city coming and going.
M. GEORGE W. WESTGATE, of Quincy, Illinois, who lived in the southwestern slave states a number of years, has furnished the following statement. "The great mass of the slaves are under drivers and overseers. I never saw an overseer without a whip; the whip usually carried is a short loaded stock, with a heavy lash from five to six feet long.
Some of her reflections, indeed, she attempted to impart to Lord Lambeth, who came almost every day to Jones's Hotel, and whom Mrs. Westgate admitted to be really devoted. Captain Littledale, it appeared, had gone to India; and of several others of Mrs.
Westgate's account of her sister, and he discovered for himself that the young lady was clever, and appeared to have read a great deal. She seemed very nice, though he could not make out, as Mrs. Westgate had said, she was shy. If she was shy, she carried it off very well. "Mr. Beaumont," she had said, "please tell me something about Lord Lambeth's family.
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