These sweet duets passed for trios:
for on their return Rose would be out looking for them, or would go and
meet them at some distance, and all three would go up together to the
baroness, as from a joint excursion. And when they went up to their
bedrooms, Josephine would throw her arms round her sister's neck, and
sigh, "It is not happiness, it is beatitude!"
Meantime, the baroness mourned for Raynal. Her grief showed no decrease.
Rose even fancied at times she wore a gloomy and discontented look as
well; but on reflection she attributed that to her own fancy, or to the
contrast that had now sprung up in her sister's beaming complacency.
Rose, when she found herself left day after day alone for hours, was sad
and thought of Edouard. And this feeling gained on her day by day.
At last, one afternoon, she locked herself in her own room, and, after a
long contest with her pride, which, if not indomitable, was next door to
it, she sat down to write him a little letter. Now, in this letter,
in the place devoted by men to their after-thoughts, by women to their
pretended after-thoughts; i.
Pages:
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327