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When the Birds Begin to Sing

Chapter 9 HEART SICK AND WEARY WITH THE JOURNEY'S FRET.

Word Count: 2366    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

take you to Mrs. Mounteagle's party this afternoon. I am sure she won't mind, we are such gr

rand party?" as

iddy's affairs are always so chic-that meaning styl

s for your head gear, Ma-one of turquoise and another in the shape

by, grinning, "and my word, what a lot we

n an envelope and ringing for Sarah

window, who is scratching up

with a little ivory hand on the end of a long horn stick. Then she calls for a comb,

ice in the doorway, when Rover's toilet (which has

how he

rs. Grebby, "if you please, ma'am

ing doors between her b

I will see Giddy in the next room. Come on, Rover-down, old boy-

iddy's presence, her eyes as radiant as

ver your doors, and heaping flowers into enormous vases. Can I come in and help? I am splendid at dec

pared," speaking in f

el

to me. There, there, don't look so blank; one would think I had suggested murdering good Mrs. Grebby and her dear fat husband. Can't you see it, Eleanor? You ha

ashamed of them, it is not in me to

foot taps impatiently on the fl

London junction-send them puffing back in a slow train to the country-tell them never to enter Lyndhurst again-keep them out of Richmo

Eleanor, pale and trembling. "If

support (which is my guiding hand) you go flop! Now don't turn rusty, or cry," as tears of passion well into Eleanor's eyes. "I want you at my party-I want youth and beauty, for I have

plies. "He would not mi

ares Giddy firmly. "You may be off

urself very grand, but my parents would not have hurt anyone as you have hurt me to-day! You sneer a

shrilly; she forge

erday. Pray spare me the effort of argument. Remember I have to entert

htily to the door

more I shall st

ves a lo

n you get over your temper,

over's shaggy coat. She is alone, and the faint soun

wly the folding doors push open, and t

pale, Mrs. Grebby's cheeks

o 'ave come, we didn't know. But she was right, dearie, and we will go away,

eanor, realising they have overh

ie, be calm,

," Eleanor stammers. "I l

ieve she ever had any parents of her own-I mean, not what you call parents. Some say she was born in a workhouse, a caravan, or an East-end doss. Though how she managed to be what she

er at Copthorne. We are not fit for Society; some day you will come back to

Mr. Grebby pats them both on the back cheerily.

n honour of his guests, enters the room. "What is th

Mrs. Mounteagle's

jokingly, "and ask her to put it on a chair with a label:

nce. Then he notices for the first

oman, you have

anor, "I have quar

hree explain as best th

deeply i

y; we wouldn't 'ave come. We really didn't guess what an upset it

ng her hand. "Such friends are not worth

r timely appearance, and resolves to wri

expects us, and is reserving a front room in her lodging house.

lways right," adds Mr. Grebby, wi

or watches them drive away with her husband, who has prom

s," she says before he leaves. "No wandering about s

sees them from her windo

she thinks. "Eleanor has shunted th

on her hat and cloak, and salli

h office, and addresses

this afternoon. Come t

hill, a strange thrill of e

e says to herself. "Carol has promise

to stay late in the City, having spent most of the morning at home, and since she

fire looks cosy in the extreme as M

eveals not the slight soup?on of powder paling her features. She barely rises to greet him, only moving to a sitting posture, her f

e from under her long fringe

mpting fingers," he w

to heal my sorrows. I have got such a horrid wound here," pressing her hear

her with all his eyes. "Dear Mrs. Roche, I thank you f

to Giddy's?" sh

for? Was I not commande

ng my parents to her stupid party. They are the dearest old people from the country, not gifted with her false Society airs. I was o

ffended dignity, her eyes flashing at th

!" mutters Quinton through

utterly at the mercy of our friends; these people call themselves frie

ression clouding his brow. "To attack a poor l

cry," nodding her head and

he thinks. It clings round her elegant figure, and

comfort you?" he s

up for me when you hear her or Lady MacDon

see how I would willingly be your slave? Will you accept me as such? Use me as you will! When in trouble, call me; I shall be always ready. No woman has ever exe

sh of pleasure peeps through the white ski

ish friendship. I can be but a poor friend to you, I am neither influential nor par

a good deal aw

very lonely sometimes. But how dark i

dream, and to see more clearly into other natures, t

beside her buries his head in th

-my love!

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