The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 05, No. 31, May, 1860 by Various
page 75 of 292 (25%)
page 75 of 292 (25%)
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"Smother that light in your eyes, my girl; it is dangerous. And you
have lived under your mother's eye all your life! You see what I have done,"--indicating Leonora with his eyebrows,--"taken a baby on my hands." "John, John!" I inwardly ejaculated, "you are an idiot." "She shall never suffer what you suffer; she shall have the benefit of the experience which other women have given me." "Very likely," I answered; "I know we often serve you as pioneers merely." He gave a sad nod, and I closed the door upon him. "Put these pins into my hair, Leonora, and tell me, how do you like my new dress?" "Paris!" she cried. It was a dove-colored silk with a black velvet stripe through it. I showed her a shawl which John had given me,--a pale-yellow gauzy fabric with a gold-thread border,--and told her to make me up. She produced quite a marvellous effect; for this baby understood the art of dress to perfection. She made my hair into a loose mass, rolling it away from my face; yet it was firmly fastened. Then she shook out the shawl, and wrapped me in it, so that my head seemed to be emerging from a pale-tinted cloud. John said I looked outlandish, but Leonora thought otherwise. She begged him for some Indian perfume, and he found an aromatic powder, which she sprinkled inside my gloves and over my shawl. |
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