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Armour, Rebecca Agatha, 1846?-1891

"Marguerite Verne"

Arnold cast upon Mr. Featherstone one
of her duly-organized smiles--a smile that was magnetic, and that
set the heart of the luckless visitor into a flutter beyond recall.
"My dear Mrs. Arnold, you certainly do me the highest honor that can
be bestowed upon a human being"--Mr. Featherstone felt considerable
difficulty in getting off this speech, but another glance at the
fair creature and he continued--"for you are certainly born to be
worshipped at a distance--a something too lovely to be approached by
anything this side of paradise!"
"Oh, Mr. Featherstone, spare me this flattery--I cannot really
receive such, and from you-one endowed with such intellectual power,
such ability and such genius! The thought is really dreadful!"
Mrs. Arnold's assumed earnestness of manner was indeed flattery of
the seventh degree to the superficial Mr. Featherstone. He was
transported to empyrean air. Mrs. Arnold had insight and her opinion
was something to cherish. Poor Mr. Featherstone!
The conversation that followed was extravagant to the highest
degree, and he went away that evening in a state of great
disquietude, wondering why it was that it had not been his good
fortune to meet his ideal of female loveliness ere she was wedded to
another.


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