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Updated: June 15, 2025
Hearing the scandalous sallies of the rustic, the ladies said, with an amiable smile: "He is a benedetto." The Contessina Brenda, fascinated by the Neapolitan, went to the Marchesa Sciacca's table. As she passed, Carminatti arose with his napkin in one hand, and gesticulating with the other, said: "Contessina. Allow me to present to you Signor Cappagutti, a merchant from Naples."
Had he alternately grovelled and strutted to attract the admiration of his lady? I found the reflection markedly distasteful. I was sorry again, now, for the old man. He had suffered heavy penalties for his lapse. I remembered Mrs. Banks's hint that his wife had adopted Brenda in the first place in order that he might have before him a constant reminder of his disgrace. I could believe that.
Caesar's observations were interrupted by the arrival of a dark, plump woman, who came in from the street, accompanied by her daughter, a blond girl, fat, smiling, and a bit timid. This lady and Laura bowed with much ceremony. "Who is she?" asked Caesar in a low tone. "It is the Countess Brenda," said Laura. "Another countess! But are all the women here countesses?" "Don't talk nonsense."
Three days later a pack-train arrived, with a laundress from the infantry company, Frank Burton, and Mary Arnold, and with stores and supplies necessary for setting up a sick-camp. The wounded girl mended rapidly from the start. In due time Brenda recovered sufficiently to bear transportation to Prescott, where she joined her uncle and cousins. Rapid changes quickly followed.
"I know it is rough on you, Frankie," said Henry, "not to have a chance to win a few scars, too; but I should be dreadfully worried if you were to go, and I'm worried enough about Brenda now. You must stay with me." And so it was settled, and Frank remained behind, lending his pony Sancho to Private Clary.
"O Heaven!" she murmured low, "I have betrayed myself!" Bertram seized her hand, his features evincing deep emotion. "Will you answer me one question?" he asked, and as she bowed her head in silence, he proceeded "is the Count von Brenda your brother?" "Oh, sir," she said, with a faint smile, "one does not suffer for a brother as I have suffered for Feodor.
I rose, and, moving on tiptoe, opened both doors, and with the light of an electric torch I always carried with me, investigated the corridor and dressing-room, but could make no discovery of any kind, nor perceive where my fair visitant had vanished. When I returned to my room I found Brenda had been disturbed by my perambulation, for she was up and moving about restlessly.
Hawthorne, listening with breathless interest, made no sound that urged him to go on. The fact he had announced seemed solemn to both alike, with the vision floating between them of Brenda's white-rose face and deer's eyes, the feeling they had in common that Brenda, for indefinable reasons, was not like ordinary mortals, and that what she felt was more significant, more important.
As we have seen him doing more than once this afternoon, Gerald here tried to get his clue from Brenda herself, her face, her atmosphere. Yet he knew, as has already been said, that it was Brenda Foss's way to keep these as much as she could from telling anything to the world.
Then they finished their tea and talk, and Brenda and Nitocris went and put on their wraps not the imitation of the mediæval armour which is used for serious motor-driving, but just dust-cloaks and mushrooms, both of which Brenda lent to her friend. As they came back through the drawing-room, she said to her mother: "Well, Mamma, the car's ready, I believe.
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