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Hudson, W. H. (William Henry), 1841-1922

"The Purple Land"

The saddle was quickly
transferred to my new acquisition, and, once more thanking these good
people and bidding adieu, I resumed my journey.
When I gave my hand before leaving to the youngest, and also, to my
mind, the prettiest of the five daughters of the house, instead of
smiling pleasantly and wishing me a prosperous journey, like the others,
she was silent, and darted a look at me, which seemed to say, "Go,
sir; you have treated me badly, and you insult me by offering your
hand; if I take it, it is not because I feel disposed to forgive you,
but only to save appearances."
At the same moment, when she bestowed that glance on me which said so
much, a look of intelligence passed over the faces of the other people
in the room. All this revealed to me that I had just missed a very
pretty little idyllic flirtation, conducted in very novel circumstances.
Love cometh up as a flower, and men and charming women naturally flirt
when brought together. Yet it was hard to imagine how I could have
started a flirtation and carried it on to its culminatory point in
that great public room, with all those eyes on me; dogs, babes, and
cats tumbling about my feet; ostriches staring covetously at my buttons
with great vacant eyes; and that intolerable paroquet perpetually
reciting "How the waters came down at Lodore," in its own shrieky,
beaky, birdy, hurdy-gurdy, parrot language.


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