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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"White Lies"

A fine life if one had a parcel of
women about, all blurting out their real minds every moment, and never
smoothing matters."
"Mamma, what a horrid picture!" chuckled Rose.
She then proposed that at his next visit they should all three make an
earnest appeal to him to let them know what Edouard had decided.
But Josephine begged to be excused, feared it would be hardly delicate;
and said languidly that for her part she felt they were in good hands,
and prescribed patience. The baroness acquiesced, and poor Rose and her
curiosity were baffled on every side.
At last, one fine day, her torments were relieved without any further
exertion on her part. Jacintha bounced into the drawing-room with a
notice that the commandant wanted to speak to Josephine a minute out in
the Pleasaunce.
"How droll he is," said Rose; "fancy sending in for a young lady like
that. Don't go, Josephine; how, he would stare."
"My dear, I no more dare disobey him than if I was one of his soldiers."
And she laid down her work, and rose quietly to do what she was bid.
"Well," said Rose, superciliously, "go to your commanding officer.


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