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Sandra Belloni -- Volume 3

Chapter 5 5

Word Count: 2625    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

ves you the right in the world's eye to despise him!" she apostrophized the vanished Laura, clothing gold with all the baseness of that person. Now,

- latitude. The sentimentalists are represented by them among the civilized species. It is they that sensitively touch and reject, touch and select; whereby the laws of the polite world are ultimately regulated, and civilization continually advanced, sometimes ridiculously. The sentimentalists are ahead of us, not by weight of bra

e them perfectly presentable; by which fact I am warned to have tolerance for the finer beings who labour under these excessive sensual subtleties. I perceive their uses. And they are right good comedy; for which I may say that I almost love them. Man is the la

ative eye and mouth: "The saints were poor!" (the saints of whom he had read, translating from that old Latin book) "St. Francis! how divine was his life!" and so forth, un

ning herself to bondage-pledging her hand to a man she did not love. Could it have been that she was guilty of the immense folly, simply to escape from that piece of coarse earth, Mrs. Chump? Cornelia smiled sadly, saying:

e past. Mournful to think that we have been bereft of

itter pain he dealt her. Revolving how the worst man on earth would have behaved to a girl partially in his power (hands had been permitted to be pressed, and the gateways of the eyes had stood open: all but vows had been interchanged), she came to regard Mr. Barrett as the best man on the earth. That she alone saw it, did not depreciate

, even vexed, when she met Mr. Barrett there at last. Emilia was by his side, near a drooping birch.

wood," said, Mr. Barrett, admirably coll

ornelia felt her thr

I expect-I h

ounded, until a vision of the detaining

"Our dear child is a

lia, fierily o

your Italy

ny more. Have I not said

"Let us hope your heart is c

rnelia in the winning old style), "that the lov

l self-possession pitiably, as she co

ilfrid's injunctions (which were ordinarily conveyed in too subtle a manner for her to feel their meaning enough to find them binding). Cornelia, for a mask to her emotions, gave Emilia a gentle, albeit high-worded lecture on the artist's duty toward Art, quoting favourite passages from Mr. Barrett's favourite Art-critic. And her fashion of dropping her voice as she declaimed the more dictatorial sentences (to imply, one might guess, by a show of personal humility that she would have you to know her preaching was vicarious; tha

th Mr. Barrett. The Pitfall of Sentiment yawned visible, but this lady's strength had been too little tried for her to lack absolute faith in it. So, out of deep silences, the two

ored union. One hand was in his buttoned coat; the other hung elegantly loose: not a feature betrayed emotion. He might have spoken

well to say thi

escaped, to conceal her shame. Seeing thus much, he took it to mean

ire of low degree, at his elbows, cuffs, collar, kneecap, and head- piece, she might have achieved it with better success. For cynicism (the younger brother of sentiment and inheritor of the family property) is always on

ove this neighbou

e all that I

es-soft yellow beds, run over with grey

off with your readi

or languidly, thinking one of the weighty monosyllables

re to do as so many women do, when…when th

e mind?" she said, and followed his stu

arriage to stop your

d, and was shocked at what she

n to conquer t

only made her feel th

For the sake of heaven, do not cloud for me the one bright image I hold! Let me know always that you are

tly. "You have judge

Barr

stopped short, and she felt the silenc

the stump of the pollard-willow i

at I shall hear of you, some day," she said

to certain hopes of fa

wise for

fallacy,

w tree. "Is there promi

e young, Mr

d it may be written, 'Co

nsay it!" The nakedness of her spirit stood fo

they live

annot know! The misery of our domestic life was so bitter!

last support. This, I petitioned Providence to hear from you

ly, as if to suck an irony from the sweetne

duties bring consolation. I do acknowledge that an eminent station will not only be grace

rable d

wilful child who quarrels with its

quickly: "Your heart

k? I have d

you, i

e in the deliberat

ition of personal duty, and shadowed out all her own ideas on t

revert to myself in our interviews; they were too divine fo

ing at the instant

ow, I shall not b

would have

rne

lady; and if he had faltered, it would not have been well for him. But, plainly, he claimed th

thirst. His father, at least, was a man of title, a baronet. What was meant by estates not entailed? What wild freak of fate put this noble young man in the power of an eccentric paren

o his father, pledging himself to conform to his mysterious d

eferred poverty. You have taught

ition of her name, seemed as if awake

!" she w

lov

not tell me

u upbr

My friend," she said, half in self-defence; and they, who ha

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