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Monday, June 2, 2014
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Tuesday, April 1, 2014
machinations
am. We are al
And may I ask, young woman, have you run away from your second husband? You say that marriage was a mistake too. Mrs. Tremaine. No; he is dead now. Miss Macfarlane. But you don't--(_Looks at her dress._) Mrs. Tremaine. No, I don't _afficher_ eternal bereavement. We were separated for two years. Mrs Denham. Poor Blanche! Then it was not a success? Mrs. Tremaine. No; it was not a success. Miss Macfarlane. Well, we mustn't ask why? Mrs. Tremaine. Oh, I'm in the humour for confession. I think you can understand. We got on well enough while I was--free. But he did the chivalrous thing--asked me to marry him; and I was glad enough to scramble back to the platform of respectability. Miss Macfarlane. Well, I understand that, anyhow. Mrs. Tremaine That seemed to kill the romance, such as it was. I need not go into the sordid details, but we quarrelled finally about money--my money. My husband took to gambling in stocks. But I have managed to keep my little pittance, fortunately. Well, that is enough of my affairs. Have you any children, Constance? Mrs. Denham. One little girl, just nine. Have you any? Mrs. Tremaine. No--none. Miss Macfarlane. A woman who has had such unpleasant experiences ought to hate and despise men. But of course _you_ don't? Mrs. Tremaine. (_laughing_) No--I don't think I hate men exactly. I despise some men heartily. Miss Macfarlane. They're gey ill to live wi', eh? Mrs. Tremaine. I don't think marriage suits me, somehow. I suppose it suits some people. But I think it often tends to reduce them to a dead level of commonplace. The artificial bond makes people too sure of each other. It does not do to take love too much for granted, I think. (_Re-enter Denham._) Mrs. Denham. Well, Arthur, have you got rid of Mr. Fitzgerald? Denham. Yes--I'm so glad to have made your acquaintance, Mrs. Tremaine. Mrs. Tremaine. Thanks. It is so pleasant meeting unconventional people. Miss Macfarlane. (_Rising_) Eh! we've all been getting solemn and lugubrious. I must be going, my dear. Won't you show me your drawing-room? (_Mrs. Denham rises._) You wanted my advice about curtains, didn't you? Mrs. Denham. Will you excuse me, Blanc
Monday, March 31, 2014
telescript
his practical achievements, b
Ies, the delusions, the concealments, the faithlessness, the desertion, the parting! And now,--now the chief actress in this drama that had touched him so nearly lay buried in a New England grave, with his own Adele her solitary mourner! "It was your friend the Doctor who gave the good woman absolution, I suppose," said Papiol, tapping his snuff-box, and gathering a huge pinch between thumb and finger. "Not even that comfort, I suspect," said Maverick. _"Bah! pauvre femme!"_ And the philosopher titillated his nostril until he sneezed again and again. "And the Doctor," continued Papiol,--"does he suspect nothing?" "Nothing. He has counselled me to make what amends I may by marrying--you know whom." "_Pardieu!_ he is a good innocent, that old friend of yours!" "Better than you or I, Papiol." "_Cela va sans dire, mon ami._ And _la petite_,--the little bright-eyes,--what of her?" "She is unsuspicious, but hints at a little cloud that overshadows her domestic history, and tells her lover that it shall be cleared up before she will marry him, or any other." "Ta, ta! It's an inquisitive sex, Maverick! I could never quite understand how Julie should have learned that her little one was still alive, and been able to trace her as she did. I think the death was set forth in the Gazette,--eh, Maverick?" "It certainly was," said Maverick,--"honestly, for the child's good." "Ha!--honestly,--_bon_! I beg pardon, _mom ami_." And Papiol took snuff again. "Set forth in the Gazette, _en regle_, and came to Julie's knowledge, as I am sure; and she sailed for the East with her brother, who was a small trader in Smyrna, I believe,--poor woman! To tell truth, Papiol, had she been alive, loving Adele as I do, I believe I should have been tempted to follow the parson's admonition, cost what it might." "And then?" "And then I should give _petite_ an honest name to bear,--honest as I could, at least; and would have lavished wealth upon her, as I mean to do; and made the last half of my life better than the first." "Excellent! most excellent! considering that the lady is dead, _pauvre femme_! And now, my dear fellow, you mi
