Guy Earlscourt's Wife — page 73: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a ized of @ try yard. a letter, nds were . Hawks- ver broke ame, was ne or not, ley never ery much ‘hich eon- ank. She to write; g. Duke painter-in- er to the ontfully— t oasis in ies, in the thinking pmance of had never Il to Rob- Vane and hey might opped out now; the to push it, it piectur- sun shone, | to linger ional look to Duke, that past any night, ; but peo- interested n Priory, ice. Lord 1 of June, hat’s why hat by its vast inter- girl wa. nd all ihe \fter Fourteen Years. 67 1. .despeoplt oelonging to the P-'ory, and ar»: 9dy the bailiff and Mrs. Hamper, the housekeeper, like to invite beside. I have an invitation from both of ’egm, and I’m going with Alice Warren. Then after dinner and speech-making, you know, and all that, tnere’s to be a ball in the great entrance hall, among the old chaps in armor, and the antlers, and pattle-axes, and boomerangs, and things. A ball, Rosanna— a real out-and-out ball,” repeated Polly, with owl -like soicm- nity, and the largest capitals. “But, Polly, you’re not the tenantry, nor the tradespeople,” retorted Rosanna, who, having not an atom of pride for her- self, had yet heaps for Polly. “Youwre a young lady, and———” “iiddle! I beg your pardon, Rosanna, but I’m not a young lady. I’m Duke Mason, the scene-painter’s poor rela- tion, brought up out of charity, and aothing else. A young lady, to my mind, 1s'a person like—like Miss Hautton, now, who never toasted a mufhn, nor washed up the tea-things in her life. I know what I am—lI wish I was a lady, but i’m not. And ’m going to the dinner and the ball, Rosaana, and as it’s my first ball, I intend to dance with everybody who asks me. If one can’t be rich and aristocratie themselves, it’s pleasant to mix with people that are, and the ladies and ventlemen are going to dance with the common herd, and be sociable tor once, in a way.” Polly’s grammar might be obscure, but her meaning was clear. She was going to the ball, and would like to see who would stop her. “Well, Polly, if you insist—but mind, [ don’t like it——” “Of course you don’t, Rosanna; you never do like fun and frolic, and we’re all worms, ain’t we? But I’m going though, so please hurry up and iron my new muslin dress, for | prom- ised to call for Alice at four o’cloeck. And, oh, Rosanna! who knows? perhaps Lord Montalien himself may ask me to dance.” “Stuff and nonsense, child! Lord Montalien is sixty-seven years old, and has the gout. A pretty figure an eld sinner like that would cut, dancing with a chit like you. Have the quality come down ?” “Came this morning—Lord Montalien and his two sons, Mr. Francis and Mr. Guy, Sir Vane and Lady Charteris, and their daughter, Miss Maud Charteris, and a Miss Diana Hauttcn. Sir Vane and Miss Diana are both second cousins of my lord.” hoe pronounced those great names with an unction good to hear. “There’s a Mr. Allan Fane, too, an art:s:, Mre. Hamper Se OP opel © peti rs - eee es Bex tie ea — . Jf. eh Ae PO tea a a ae - “ _ . n a . ee PBRM tee Foir Pe RAE TALS at ie ae ha " + a — We me le ‘ee aid oP ten 60 id 4 . = - . - “ag Y ee, Sg ep ee i a ot eee ae Reet es ee = ae! Ens Ma Shen ete ster ee te ee on 3 r comicbooks.com