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Moore, George (George Augustus), 1852-1933

"Vain Fortune"

Every one does. Do you not think she is very handsome?'
'I think her an exceedingly pleasant woman, and I'm sure we shall all get
on very well together.'
'But don't you think her very handsome?'
'Yes; she is a handsome woman.'
Nothing more was said. Emily drew meditatively on the gravel with the point
of her parasol. The gardeners looked up from their work.
'I have to go now,' she said, raising her eyes timidly, 'to feed the swans.
You would not care to go so far?'
'On the contrary, I should like it, of all things. A walk by the water on a
day like this will be quite a treat.'
'Then will you wait a moment? I will go and fetch the bread.' She returned
soon after with a small basket; and a large retriever, tied up in the
corner of the yard, barked and lugged at his chain. 'He knows where I am
going, and is afraid I shall forget him--aren't you, dear old Don? You
wouldn't like to miss a walk with your mistress, would you, dear?' The dog
bounded and rushed from side to side; it was with difficulty that Emily
loosed him. Once free, he galloped down the drive, returning at intervals
for a caress and a sniff at the basket which his mistress carried. 'There's
nothing there for you, my beautiful Don!'
The drive sloped from the house down to the artificial water, passing under
some large elms; and in the twilight of the branches where the sunlight
played, and the silence was tremulous with wings, Hubert felt that Emily
had forgiven him.


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