"Oh, Cecil!" she exclaimed--"oh, Cecil, do tell me!"
"I promessi sposi," said he.
They stared at him anxiously.
"She has accepted me," he said, and the sound of the thing in
English made him flush and smile with pleasure, and look more
human.
"I am so glad," said Mrs. Honeychurch, while Freddy proffered a
hand that was yellow with chemicals. They wished that they also
knew Italian, for our phrases of approval and of amazement are so
connected with little occasions that we fear to use them on great
ones. We are obliged to become vaguely poetic, or to take refuge
in Scriptural reminiscences.
"Welcome as one of the family!" said Mrs. Honeychurch, waving her
hand at the furniture. "This is indeed a joyous day! I feel sure
that you will make our dear Lucy happy."
"I hope so," replied the young man, shifting his eyes to the
ceiling.
"We mothers--" simpered Mrs. Honeychurch, and then realized that
she was affected, sentimental, bombastic--all the things she
hated most.
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