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Frederic, Harold, 1856-1898

"The Market-Place"


When Julia made her appearance, a few minutes later,
the table was already laid, and the waiter was coming
in with the coffee.
"I thought we'd hurry up breakfast," her uncle explained,
after she had kissed him and thanked him for the sunrise
he had so successfully predicted--"because I knew you'd
both be crazy to get out."
He had not over-estimated their eagerness, which was so great,
indeed, that they failed to note the excessive tranquility
of his own demeanour. He ate with such unusual deliberation,
on this exciting morning, that they found themselves at
the end of their repast when, apparently, he had but made a beginning.
"Now you mustn't wait for me at all," he announced
to them then. "I'm a little tired this morning--and I
think I'd just like to lie around and smoke, and perhaps
read one of your novels. But you two must get your
things on and lose no time in getting out. This is the
very best time of day, you know--for Alpine scenery.
I'd hate to have you miss any of it."
Under his kindly if somewhat strenuous insistence, they went
to their rooms to prepare for an immediate excursion.
He was so anxious to have them see all there was to be
seen that, when Julia returned, properly cloaked and befurred,
and stood waiting at the window, he scolded a little.
"What on earth is that boy doing?" he exclaimed, with a
latent snarl in his tone which was novel to her ear.


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