Society Novelettes, by F C Burnand [and Others]

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: on the steep bank, which she had climbed to gather some late- bloorning primroses. Her face was turned from Major Norman, and she did not perceive his approach till he was quite close, and she caught sight of him as she sprang down from the bank. Her look was one of half recognition, half doubt; then a...
More Description

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: on the steep bank, which she had climbed to gather some late- bloorning primroses. Her face was turned from Major Norman, and she did not perceive his approach till he was quite close, and she caught sight of him as she sprang down from the bank. Her look was one of half recognition, half doubt; then a smile flashed over her face as she exclaimed, Major Norman Miss Duncombe She was a woman of twenty-eight or thirty, veiy graceful, with gold-brown hair which caught the light, a beautiful forehead, and more beautiful eyes. She wore a dress of dull olive- green, and her hands were full of flowers she had gathered? dark wild hyacinths, golden cowslips, a cluster of the apple- bloom's mingled rose and snow, and the pale primroses. A vision of spring ? Hardly: rather a very gracious perfectly- dressed woman. In spite of her woodland surroundings, she involuntarily reminded one of Piccadilly. Her dress was very quiet, but spoke eloquently of the mistress-hand that had made it; her gloves, boots, hat, were all too perfect to be picturesque. Nevertheless, she was a fair picture, and her face was charming enough to make one forget her attire. Are you very much astonished to see me here? she said. Well, yes, though it is always foolish to be surprised. You thought I was bound to be in London, and at my toil of amusing the British public. No; I am on sick-leave, and came down here to recruit. The doctors won't let me sing for another month yet: I have been ill. But you can't be more surprised to see me than I am to see you. I did not know there was another London exile besides myself at Penmouth. Did you fancy you had the monopoly of the place ? he said dryly. She laughed; her laugh was wonderfully sweet. I feel my sovereignty to be disturbed, ...