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The girls were accustomed to celebrate the occasion with some little festivity, and were delighted when it was arranged that they should visit the town of Appleford, about ten miles away. "There is the Dripping Well to see, and a fine old church," said Miss Russell. "I am sure we shall be able to spend a very pleasant afternoon there. We must ask Monica to come with us."
'She does not beat you? said Cousin Monica, with an incipient frenzy in her face that made me love her. 'Oh no! 'Nor ill-use you in any way? 'No. 'Upon your honour and word, Maud? 'No, upon my honour. 'You know I won't tell her anything you say to me; and I only want to know, that I may put an end to it, my poor little cousin.
Madame had her dressing-case and her mysteries, and palpably stood in need of repairs; so away I went to my studies. The room which we called the school-room was partly beneath the floor of Madame's bed-chamber, and commanded the same view; so, remembering my governess's peering glance from her windows, I looked out, and saw Cousin Monica making a brisk promenade up and down the terrace-walk.
When silence returned, and Milly ran away once more to try whether the old gray trout was visible in the still water under the bridge, Cousin Monica said to me in a low tone, looking hard at me 'You've not seen anything to frighten you, Maud? Don't look so alarmed, dear, she added with a little laugh, which was not very merry, however.
Her father had lived for years ... indeed to the day of his death ... in London as the principal European representative of a big American financial house. They had lived next door to us in London and Francis and I had known Monica from the days when she was a pretty kid in short skirts until she had made her debut and the American ambassadress had presented her at Buckingham Palace.
Why had she left him in despondency, in doubt whether he would ever again see her? She turned back on her way to Virginia's lodgings, re-entered the station, and journeyed townwards. It was an odd incident, by Monica unperceived, that when she was taking her ticket there stood close by her a man, seemingly a mechanic, who had also stood within hearing when she booked at Herne Hill.
He hummed and hawed, and finally declared that he was afraid Mark Antony would shy. 'Then try the cob, said the indefatigable Miss Thorne. 'He's in physic, said Wilfred. 'There's the Beelzebub colt, said his sister; 'I know he's in the stable, because I saw Peter exercising him just now. 'My dear Monica, he's so wild that it's as much as I can do to manage him at all.
Monica was the most soiled and fingered portion of an old manuscript collection of the life histories of a score or so of saints that was one of her dearest possessions. To render herself worthy of the name she bore, to model her life upon that of the sainted woman who had sorrowed and rejoiced so much in her famous offspring, became the obsession of my mother's soul. And but that St.
Monica spoke a word or two to each of the men, who shambled off in turn with low obeisances. Directly she stopped in front of me I knew she had recognized me I felt it rather, for she made no sign though the time I had had in Germany had altered my appearance, I dare say, and I must have looked pretty rough with my three days' beard and muddy clothes.
Widdowson? Oh, I thought you had perhaps met him. You will do so this evening, I hope. He is over here on a fortnight's holiday. 'Do you live in Guernsey? Monica inquired. 'I practically live here, and one of my daughters is always with me. The other two live with their brother in a flat in Bayswater. Do you care for flats, Mrs. Widdowson?
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