Think of it, my lamb! You and me to
see the world!" Then she cried in fear: "My precious, what is it?"
For Halcyone, overwrought and overcome, had staggered to a chair and,
falling into it, had buried her face in her hands.
CHAPTER XXI
Mrs. James Anderton was seated in the Italian parlor with the two
ancient hostesses when Halcyone at last came into their midst. They had
evidently exhausted all possible topics of conversation and were
extremely glad of an interruption.
Miss La Sarthe had been growing more and more annoyed at her
great-niece's lengthy absence, while Miss Roberta felt so nervous she
would like to have sniffed at her vinaigrette, but, alas! the stern eye
of her sister was upon her and she dared not.
Mrs. James Anderton--good, worthy woman--had not passed an agreeable
afternoon either. She felt herself hopelessly out of tune with the two
old ladies, whose exquisitely reserved polished manners disconcerted
her.
She had been made to feel--most delicately, it is true, but still
unmistakably--that she had committed a breach of taste in thus
descending upon La Sarthe Chase unannounced.
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