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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"White Lies"

"His virtues
will always be present to me. His little faults of manner will not be
in sight. Good Raynal! The image of those great qualities I revere so,
perhaps because I fail in them myself, will be before my mind; and ere
he comes home I shall love him dearly. I'll tell you one reason why I
wished to go home at once was--no--you must guess."
"Guess?" said Rose, contemptuously. "As if I did not see it was to put
on your gray silk."
Josephine smiled assent, and said almost with fervor, "Good Raynal! I
feel prouder of his honest name than of our noble one. And I am so calm,
dear, thanks to you, so tranquil; so pleased that my mother's mind is at
rest, so convinced all is for the best, so contented with my own lot; so
hap--py."
A gentle tear stole from beneath her long lashes. Rose looked at her
wistfully: then laid her cheek to hers. They leaned back hand in hand,
placid and silent.
The carriage glided fast. Beaurepaire was almost in sight.
Suddenly Josephine's hand tightened on Rose's, and she sat up in the
carriage like a person awakened from a strange dream.


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