"Indeed I should--curse him!" he said under his breath.
"Your honorable self, at Madame's school-party;" and she sprang away from
his outstretched hands with a mocking laugh.
The day of the party she wrote a few little violet-perfumed notes, and
sent them off. This is a specimen:
"DEAR DOCTOR: You have so often wanted to know your 'nebulous child,'
and been indignant that she hid her face from you behind her veil of
clouds, you will be pleased to know that the sunshine has dispelled the
clouds, and made her at last able to meet the starry train of which you
are the sun. Will you greet Ross Norval's bride at the Wilber party
to-night as the child you have trained and been so good to in the past,
and who, ever honoring you, is still your loving child for the future?
If you'll ask me prettily to-night, I'll sing the foolish words I made
for the sweet, tripping Languedoc air you sent me last year. I am, now
and ever,
"MIRA CANAM."
In consequence of these notes, when Ross led his wife into the room,
arrayed in a crimson cloud of his choosing, which made even her brown face
a picture, all her bronze hair, her husband's glory, floating round her
far below her waist, confined lightly here and there by diamond clusters,
which sparkled like stars amidst its creped luxuriance--"Daring to dress
in the very height of the fashion," said Leta, "and all those diamonds on
her--his mother's, of course;" and of course they were--the consequence, I
say, was, that first one distinguished man and then another met her with a
warm greeting--"deucedly warm," thought the jealous fellow, who was so
uncertain of her yet, and wanted all of her--and were introduced to "my
husband.
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