Crowding Memories

Crowding Memories

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Crowding Memories

Crowding Memories

Read FREE!

Excerpt

The charmed life of the memorable winter had made it difficult to feel the same interest in the old routine. Romance had fled, and it was an everyday world again. The letters from London had an undertone of sadness. One felt that in some indefinable way the going was not wholly a success. A few months later the cable flashed the happy news, "Thank God, all is well! A daughter!" From this time a more cheerful note pervades the letters, and there is much of little Edwina and her French nurse, interspersed with graphic descriptions of a dinner or a tea, and the celebrities met.

At last, after a year's absence, the message, so impatiently hoped for, came -- the date of the home-coming. There is an undimmed picture in my memory of the Prince and his sweet wife at the hour of their arrival to the same environment of the year before. How like, and yet how unlike, they looked. A certain pose of sophistication had come to both. They seemed more remote from the magic air, the fields Elysian. Before there had been time to realize the fact that they were actually at home again a card was handed to Mr. Booth. He read it aloud: "Mr. and Mrs. Richard Henry Stoddard. . . ."

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