The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 03, No. 16, February, 1859 by Various
page 52 of 299 (17%)
page 52 of 299 (17%)
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kind a Nymph or Aphrodite just bursting from the sea. Madame de St. Cyr
received me with _empressement_, and, so doing, closed the door of this shrine. We spoke of various things,--of the court, the theatre, the weather, the world,--skating lightly round the slender edges of her secret, till finally she invited me to lunch with her in the garden. Here, on a rustic table, stood wine and a few delicacies,--while, by extending a hand, we could grasp the hanging pears and nectarines, still warm to the lip and luscious with sunshine, as we disputed possession with the envious wasp who had established a priority of claim. "It is to be hoped," I said, sipping the _Haut-Brion_, whose fine and brittle smack contrasted rarely with the delicious juiciness of the fruit, "that you have laid in a supply of this treasure that neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, before parting with that little gem in the Gironde." "Ah? You know, then, that I have sold it?" "Yes," I replied. "I have the pleasure of Mr. Ulster's acquaintance." "He arranged the terms for me," she said, with restraint,--adding, "I could almost wish now that it had not been." This was probably true; for the sum which she hoped to receive from Ulster for standing sponsor to his jewel was possibly equal to the price of her vineyard. "It was indispensable at the time, this sale; I thought best to hazard it on one more season.--If, after such advantages, Delphine will not marry, why--it remains to retire into the country and end our days with |
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