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Updated: June 7, 2025
They stood face to face in the soft sweet air under an arch of wistaria; it seemed a place to plight a troth, not to break one; but Jack knew that, if he would, he could not have kept the truth from her. It held him, looked from him; he was, at last, inevitably, to speak it. "Imogen," he said, "I don't want to talk to you about your mother; I don't want to defend her to you; I'm past that.
In the bottle to-night had lain tears and jest and love unending, romance and passion, treachery and irony blood and the shadow of Death. Lilac and wistaria flowered royally. Carpenter, wheelwright and painter departed.
Honeybone's face, wreathed in wistaria, looked down and demanded in accents that were harsh with alarm who was there. "I am the Rector's sister, Mrs. Honeybone," Esther explained. "I don't care who you are," said Mrs. Honeybone. "You have no business to go ringing the bell at this time of the evening. It frightened me to death." "The Rector asked me to call on you," she pressed.
Ah, here it was, the Villa Firenze a spacious, even imposing mansion of pinkish brick, the front covered in wistaria. Acacias shut off the well-kept garden from the road and bordered the drive, a circular one, the approach terminating in wide, shallow stone steps, flanked by carved stone baskets of fruit.
His face was pale, his eyes troubled; he took off his straw hat, and wiped his forehead with a large white handkerchief. Appearing from the opposite direction, a young man, a case of surgeon's instruments in his hand, met him, and in passing said good-day. The elder stopped him a moment, on the hot brick pavement before the wistaria. "Well, doctor, they're all out Mechanicsville way!
So he took us to see the flower pageants. The joyful festivals of the cherry blossom, the wistaria, the iris and chrysanthemum, the sombre colours of the beech blossom and the paths about the lotus gardens, where mankind meditated in solemn mood. We had pictures, too, of Nikko and its beauties, of Temples and great Buddhas.
She rarely wore expensive clothes, her maid Catherine made most of her indoor dresses, and yet she could still hold her own, as in old days, among women who shopped in the Rue de la Paix. This afternoon, in her silk muslin of the same shade as the trail of wistaria tucked in where the frills crossed over her breast, she might have gone astray out of the seventeenth century.
She wore a pale pink and a dead scarlet geranium, together with a spray of wistaria leaf, in admirable taste, on her dark dress. Her hat was marvellous; her gloves were perfect. She had a few shillings in her pocket to purchase souvenirs for the household; her face beamed in anticipation of a day of simple, sociable, uncostly pleasure, such as we English are so lamentably ignorant of.
"Let's go for a stroll round the verandahs," he proposed, and Elise consented. "Want a wrap? though it's warm for April," he said, as they went out the door. "No, thank you, I love the fresh air," and Elise waved her white arm upward, and entwined it in the wistaria blossoms. "I've adopted this porch, I shall probably be with Patty a lot this summer. You'll come up now and then?"
Mary had a tender, strong pity from the earliest age for the down-at-heel, over-burdened stepmother, which lightened her own load, as did the vicarious, motherly love which came to her for each succeeding fat baby. Mary was nurse and nursery-governess to all the family. Wistaria Terrace had one great recompense for its humble and hidden condition.
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