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Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943

"Three Weeks"

She was a good sort always,
and if he marvelled to himself how he had even been even mildly attracted
by her, he did not let it appear in his manner.
But one thing jarred.
"My goodness, Paul, how smart Pike's collar is!" Isabella had said. "Did
you ever! You extravagant boy! It is good enough for a lady's bracelet. You
had better give it to me! It will make the finest wedding gift I'll have!"
But Paul had snatched Pike up, the blood burning in his cheeks, and had
laughed awkwardly and turned the conversation.
No one's fingers but his own were ever allowed to touch the sacred gold.
About this time his mother began to have the idea he ought really to
marry. His father had been thirty at the time of his wedding with herself,
and she had always thought that was starting too late. Twenty-three was a
good age, and a sweet, gentle wife of Paul's would be the joy of her
declining years--to say nothing of several grandchildren. But when this
matter was broached to him first, Paul laughed, and when it became a daily
subject of conversation, he almost lost that quick temper of his, which was
not quite yet under perfect control.
"I tell you what it is, mother," he said, "if you tease me like this I
shall go away on a voyage round the world!"
So the Lady Henrietta subsided into pained silence, and sulked with her
adored son for more than a day.


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