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Updated: August 16, 2024
Priscilla remembered Robin, and blushed. "Yes, she told me about that," said the Prince nodding. "About what?" asked Priscilla, startled. "About the squire intending to marry you." "Oh," said Priscilla. "It seems hard on him, don't it? Has it struck you that such things are likely to occur pretty often to Miss Maria-Theresa Ethel Neumann-Schultz?"
Tussie was sitting up in bed with a great many pillows behind him, finding immense difficulty in breathing, when his mother, her bonnet off and every trace of having been out removed, came in and said Miss Neumann-Schultz was downstairs. "Downstairs? Here? In this house?" gasped Tussie, his eyes round with wonder and joy. "Yes. She called. Would you like her to come up and see you?" "Oh mother!"
"A gentleman wishes to see you on business, my lady," said the servant. "Mr. Neumann-Schultz?" read out Lady Shuttleworth in an inquiring voice. "Never heard of him. Where's he from?" "Baker's Farm, my lady." At that magic name Tussie's head went up with a jerk. "Tell him to go to Mr. Dawson," said Lady Shuttleworth. The servant disappeared. "Why do you send him away, mother?" asked Tussie.
"My name is Ethel Maria-Theresa Neumann-Schultz," said Priscilla, very clearly and slowly; and though she was, as we know, absolutely impervious to the steadiest staring, she did wonder whether this good lady could have seen her photograph anywhere in some paper, her stare was so very round and bright and piercing. "What a long name," said Mrs. Morrison.
At the door, it is true, he had been stirred to petulance by the foolish face and utterances of the footman James, but during the whole of the time he had been alone with Lady Shuttleworth he had behaved, he considered, with the utmost restraint and tact. Tussie offered him a cigarette. "My dear Tussie," said his mother quickly, "we will not keep Mr. Neumann-Schultz.
Neumann-Schultz has been trying to persuade me to sell him the pair of cottages up by the church, and I have been trying to persuade him to believe me when I tell him I won't." "But why won't you, mother?" asked Tussie. Lady Shuttleworth stared at him in astonishment. "Why won't I? Do I ever sell cottages?"
So much force, so much time frittered away in dreams. And all so useless, so barren. Nothing I think is so sad as waste, and nothing is so wasteful as a one-sided love." Mrs. Morrison gave the pink tulle bow she liked to wear in the afternoons at her throat an agitated pat, and tried to conceal her misery that Augustus Shuttleworth should also have succumbed to Miss Neumann-Schultz.
It was enough to make any good-looking young man sulky, the mixture of mystery and aloofness about Miss Neumann-Schultz. Extraordinary as it seemed, up to this point he had found it quite impossible to indulge with her in that form of more or less illustrated dialogue known to Symford youths and maidens as billing and cooing. Very fain would Robin have billed and have cooed.
"My dear mother, I'm never sure of anything. Nor are you. Nor is Miss Schultz. Nor is anybody who is really intelligent. But I found the thing, and Mr. Neumann " "The name to-day is Neumann-Schultz," said Mrs. Morrison, in a voice heavy with implications. "Mr. Neumann-Schultz, then, had been that way just before, and so I felt somehow it must be his."
"Yes, and be Neumann-Schultz?" "Certainly we can," said Fritzing, his face clearing; how muddled he must be getting not to have thought of it himself! "I will cause cards to be printed at once, and we will be Neumann-Schultz. Ma'am, your woman's wit " "Fritzi, you're deteriorating you never flattered me at Kunitz. Let us have tea. I invite you to tea with me.
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