‘Oh, I must tell you what a boon your Beaconsfield handkerchief
update time:2023-12-06

‘Oh, I must tell you what a boon your Beaconsfield handkerchief

作者:Xiao Qiang's misfortuneupdate time:2023-12-06 分类:way

‘Oh, I must tell you what a boon your Beaconsfield handkerchief,

'The archdeacon!' said Eleanor, her face lighting up with passion. 'A man like the archdeacon might, one would think, be better employed than in traducing his sister-in-law, and creating bitterness between a father and his daughter.'

‘Oh, I must tell you what a boon your Beaconsfield handkerchief

'He didn't mean to that, Eleanor.'

‘Oh, I must tell you what a boon your Beaconsfield handkerchief

'What did he mean then? Why did he interfere with me, and fill your mind with such falsehood?'

‘Oh, I must tell you what a boon your Beaconsfield handkerchief

'Never mind it now, my child; never mind it now. We shall all know you better now.'

'Oh, papa, that you should have thought it! that you should have suspected me!'

'I don't know what you mean by suspicion, Eleanor. There would be nothing disgraceful, you know; nothing wrong in such a marriage. Nothing that could have justified my interfering as your father.' And Mr Harding would have proceeded in his own defence to make out that Mr Slope after all was a very good sort of man, and a very fitting second husband for a young widow, had he not been interrupted by Eleanor's greater energy.

'It would be disgraceful,' said she; 'it would be wrong; it would be abominable. Could I do such a horrid thing, I should expect no one to speak to me. Ugh--' and she shuddered as she thought of the matrimonial torch which her friends had been so ready to light on her behalf. I don't wonder at Dr Grantly; I don't wonder at Susan; but, oh, papa, I do wonder at you. How could you, how could you believe it?' Poor Eleanor, as she thought of her father's defalcation, could resist her tears no longer, and was forced to cover her face with her handkerchief.

The place was not very opportune for her grief. They were walking through the shrubberies, and there were many people near them. Poor Mr Harding stammered out his excuse as best he could, and Eleanor with an effort controlled her tears, and returned her handkerchief to her pocket. She did not find it difficult to forgive her father, nor could she altogether refuse to join him in the returning gaiety of spirit to which her present avowal gave rise. It was such a load off his heart to think that he should not be called on to welcome Mr Slope as his son-in-law; it was such a relief to him to find that his daughter's feelings and his own were now, as they ever had been, in unison. He had been so unhappy for the last six weeks about this wretched Mr Slope!

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