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Beatrice sits down again on the arm of the sofa, and resigns herself to her fate; but she looks rather annoyed and vexed about it. Mrs. Romer paces the room feverishly and impatiently. "What did you think of Miss Nevill?" asks Beatrice. "I could hardly see her in her hat and that thick veil; but she looked as if she were handsome."
When finally it was extricated we found that the horse had a bad cut in the breast made by a snag on the log. We could find no damage done to the wagon. The harness Nielsen had cut could be mended quickly. What a fortunate outcome to what had seemed a very grave accident! I was thankful indeed. But not soon would I forget sight of Romer in front of that plunging wagon.
The servant came in, bringing the lamp, replenished the fire and drew the curtains, shutting out the light of day. "Any one to tea, ma'am?" he inquired, respectfully. "One gentleman no one else. Bring up tea when he comes." "Very well, ma'am;" and the servant withdrew. Mrs. Romer paced impatiently up and down the room, stopping again and again before the clock. "Late again!
This remark proved that he had paid me a compliment in eastern slang most likely assimilated from R.C. and Romer. The rest of the afternoon our camp resembled a beehive, and next morning it was more like a bedlam. The horses were fresh, spirited, and they had tender backs; the burros stampeded because of some surreptitious trick of Romer's. But by noon we had all the outfit packed in the wagon.
Harlowe, my late master, wished it so, and of course Mrs. Romer, she were quite ready, so to speak, for the Captain had been a-courting her for ever so long, as we who lived in the house could have told." The vicomte was fumbling at his breast-coat pocket, his face was as yellow as the rose in his button-hole. "Where was the wedding to be? At Kew?"
"He loves her!" she said to herself, whilst a sharp pang, almost of physical pain, shot through her heart. "She shall never get him! never! never! Not though one of us die for it! They are false, both of them. I swear they shall never be happy together!" "Why are you not dancing, Mrs. Romer?" said a voice at her elbow. "I will dance with you, Sir John, if you will ask me," answers Helen, smiling.
Mr Closerstil was well known to be the sharpest man at his business in all England, unless the palm should be given to his great rival Mr Nearthewinde; and in this instance he was to be assisted in the battle by a very clever young barrister, Mr Romer, who was an admirer of Sir Roger's career in life.
And no more I will, Mr Romer unless it be to give a quiet vote for the nobleman under whom I and mine always lived respectable." "Oh!" said Mr Romer. "A man do like to have his bill paid, you know, Mr Romer." Mr Romer could not but acknowledge that this was a natural feeling on the part of an ordinary mortal publican.
We waited till he was well off, and then rode back to the spot where Romer had fallen: we soon found him, but he was quite dead; the blow with the lion's paw had fractured his skull. "I ought to have said that the Gorraguas told us not to travel by night, but by day; and we had done so in consequence of their advice.
"Having gained these, Hastings set me to watch at the front door, lest anybody should return, while Romer and he looked out for something else in the way of provisions. We got possession of three hams, and a large loaf of bread as big as a small washing-tub. With these articles we made our way safe back to our retreat.
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