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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"A Simpleton"


Not a creature came.
Rosa bore this very well for a time, so long as the house was a novelty;
but when that excitement was worn out, she began to be very dull,
and used to come and entice him out to walk with her: he would look
wistfully at her, but object that, if he left the house, he should be
sure to lose a patient.
"Oh, they won't come any more for our staying in--tiresome things!" said
Rosa.
But Christopher would kiss her, and remain firm. "My love," said he,
"you do not realize how hard a fight there is before us. How should you?
You are very young. No, for your sake, I must not throw a chance away.
Write to your female friends: that will while away an hour or two."
"What, after that Florence Cole?"
"Write to those who have not made such violent professions."
"So I will, dear. Especially to those that are married and come to
London. Oh, and I'll write to that cold-blooded thing, Lady Cicely
Treherne. Why do you shake your head?"
"Did I? I was not aware. Well, dear, if ladies of rank were to come
here, I fear they might make you discontented with your lot."
"All the women on earth could not do that. However, the chances are she
will not come near me: she left the school quite a big girl, an immense
girl, when I was only twelve.


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