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Nesbit, E. (Edith), 1858-1924

"The Enchanted Castle"

But brick how you say it?
enwalling ladies to kill them. No it does itself never. And this lord
he did not then seek his lady?"
"Oh, yes he sought her right enough," Mabel assured her; "but
there are millions of convents, you know, and he had no idea
where to look, and they sent back his letters from the post-office,
and "
"Ciel!" cried Mademoiselle, "but it seems that one knows all in the
housekeeper's saloon."
"Pretty well all," said Mabel simply.
"And you think he will find her? No?"
"Oh, he'll find her all right," said Mabel, "when he's old and broken
down, you know and dying; and then a gentle Sister of Charity will
soothe his pillow, and just when he's dying she'll reveal herself and
say: 'My own lost love!' and his face will light up with a wonderful
joy and he'll expire with her beloved name on his parched lips."
Mademoiselle's was the silence of sheer astonishment. "You do the
prophecy, it appears?" she said at last. "Oh no," said Mabel; "I got
that out of a book. I can tell you lots more fatal love-stories any
time you like."
The French governess gave a little jump, as though she had
suddenly remembered something.
"It is nearly dinner-time," she said. "Your friend Mabelle, yes will
be your convivial, and in her honour we will make a little feast.
My beautiful flowers put them to the water, Kathleen. I run to buy
the cakes.


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