|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 28
"I should imagine so. But I am sure the daughter is. Not that veneer
which passes for it, but that deep inner culture, which gives a deft,
artistic touch to the hand, softens the voice, gives elegance to the
carriage, with a heart and mind nicely balanced. Judge for yourself,
when you see her. If there is any rare knickknack in the house, it
will have been put there by the mother's hand or the daughter's. The
admiral, I believe, occupies himself with his books, his butterflies,
and his cruises."
"A daughter. She is cultured, you say? Ah, if culture would only take
beauty in hand! But always she selects the plainer of two women."
Fitzgerald smiled inwardly. "I have told you she is not plain."
"Oh, beautiful," thoughtfully. "Culture and beauty; I shall be pleased
to observe."
"H'm! If there is any marrow in your bones, my friend, you'll show
more interest when you see her." This was thought, not spoken.
Fitzgerald wasn't going to rhapsodize over Miss Killigrew's charms. It
would have been not only incautious, but suspicious. Aloud, he said:
"She has a will of her own, I take it; however, of a quiet, resolute
order."
"So long as she is not capricious, and does not interfere with my
work--"
"Or peace of mind!" interrupted Fitzgerald, with prophetic suddenness,
which was modified by laughter.
"No, my friend; no woman has ever yet stirred my heart, though many
have temporarily captured my senses. A man in my position has no right
to love," with a dignity which surprised his auditor.
Fitzgerald looked down at the wheels. There was something even more
than dignity, an indefinable something, a superiority which
Fitzgerald's present attitude of mind could not approach.
"This man," he mused, "will afford some interesting study. One would
think that nothing less than a grand duke was riding in this rattling
old carryall." There was silence for a time. "I must warn you,
Breitmann, that, in all probability, you will have your meals at the
table with the admiral and his daughter; at least, in this house."
"At the same table? It would hardly be so in Europe. But it pleases
me. I have been alone so much that I grow moody; and that is not good."
There was always that trifling German accent, no matter what tongue he
used, but it was perceptible only to the trained ear. And yet, to
Fitzgerald's mind, the man was at times something Gallic in his
liveliness.
"You will never use your title, then?"
Breitmann laughed. "No."
"You have made a great mistake. You should have fired the first shot
with it. You would have married an heiress by this time," ironically,
"and all your troubles would be over."
"Or begun," in the same spirit. "I'm no fortune hunter, in the sense
you mean. Pah! I have no debts; no crumbling _schloss_ to rebuild.
All I ask is to be let alone," with a flash of that moodiness of which
he had spoken. "How long will you be here?"
"Can't say. Three or four days, perhaps. It all depends. What shall
I say about you to them?"
"As little as possible."
"And that's really about all I could say," with a suggestion.
But the other failed to meet the suggestion half-way.
"You might forget about my ragged linen in Paris," acridly.
"I'll omit that," good-naturedly. "Come, be cheerful; fortune's wheel
will turn, and it pulls up as well as down. Remember that."
"I must be on the ascendancy, for God knows that I am at the nadir just
at present." He breathed in the sweet freshness which still clung to
the morning, and settled his shoulders like a recruiting sergeant.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|