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Updated: June 22, 2025
"I feel," continued the young girl, "as if it were almost a shame to have asked him to go to that silly dancing party with us. It seems as if we didn't appreciate him. I think we ought to have kept him for high aesthetic occasions and historical researches." "Oh, I don't think Mr. Colville was very deeply offended at being asked to go with us."
These things were more or less matters of necessity, but Colville objected that the barbers should offer him an American shampoo; that the groceries should abound in English biscuit and our own canned fruit and vegetables, and that the grocers' clerks should be ambitious to read the labels of the Boston baked beans.
"Yes; we would give them a collation in the basement of the City Hall, and drive them out to the cemetery. The Americans and Etruscans are very much alike in that they always show you their tombs." "Will they in Fiesole?" "How you always like to burrow into the past!" interrupted Imogene. "Well, it's rather difficult burrowing into the future," returned Colville defensively.
For, day by day almost hour by hour it was his lot to listen to protestations of loyalty to a cause which smouldered none the less hotly because it was hidden from the sight of the Prince President's spies. And, as Colville had predicted, Barebone sobered down.
Colville had shut this door five minutes earlier, promising to return immediately. It was undoubtedly his hand that opened the door. But suddenly Barebone sat up. Both doors were open. Before he could make another movement, two men stepped quietly into the carriage, each closing the door by which he had entered quickly and noiselessly.
Then came Sunday, the eleventh, the third day of Melle, when Viola was left behind at Ghent. Jimmy had made her promise on her honour to be brave, this time, and stay in the hotel and wait for orders. Colville stayed with her. They were to pack our things and be ready to leave at a minute's notice.
And in a moment Colville was himself again, though the ready smile sat oddly on such white lips. "For God's sake be careful," he said, and turned away, handkerchief in hand. For the moment the portrait was forgotten until the lady was on her feet again, smiling reassurances and rubbing her elbow. "It is nothing," she said, "nothing. My heart that is all."
In an hour and a half you will be on board 'The Last Hope, at anchor in the river. There is accommodation on board for both you and Madame; for I, alas! leave the ship to-night with Monsieur Colville, and thus vacate two cabins."
"One is not a stateswoman and a daughter of kings for nothing," amended Colville, with his tolerant laugh; for he was always ready to make allowances. "Better, perhaps, that France should be left quiet, under the regime she had accepted, than disturbed by the offer of another regime, which might be less acceptable. You always remind me you, who deal with France of a lion-tamer at a circus.
Which is only a saying; for no human being knows all about another human being, nor one-half, nor one-tenth of what there is to know. Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence knew enough, at all events, Colville reflected, rather ruefully, to disillusionise a schoolgirl, much more a woman of the world, knowing good and evil.
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