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THE BRIMMING CUP
THE BRIMMING CUP
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER Page
I. PRELUDE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
II. INTERLUDE . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
_PART ONE_
III. OLD MR. WELLES AND YOUNG MR. MARSH. 29
IV. TABLE TALK. . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
V. A LITTLE GIRL AND HER MOTHER. . . . 64
VI. THINGS TAKE THEIR COURSE. . . . . . 80
VII. THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREUS . . . . . 91
VIII. WHAT GOES ON INSIDE . . . . . . . . 115
IX. THE GENT AROUND THE LADY. . . . . . 130
X. AT THE MILL . . . . . . . . . . . . 151
_PART TWO_
XI. IN AUNT HETTY'S GARDEN. . . . . . . 179
XII. HEARD FROM THE STUDY. . . . . . . . 199
XIII. ALONG THE EAGLE ROCK BROOK. . . . . 215
XIV. BESIDE THE ONION-BED. . . . . . . . 224
XV. HOME-LIFE . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
XVI. MASSAGE-CREAM; THEME AND VARIATIONS 256
XVII. THE SOUL OF NELLY POWERS. . . . . . 266
_PART THREE_
XVIII. BEFORE THE DAWN . . . . . . . . . . 279
XIX. MR. WELLES LIGHTS THE FUSE. . . . . 285
XX. A PRIMAEVAL HERITAGE. . . . . . . . 294
XXI. THE COUNSEL OF THE STARS. . . . . . 302
XXII. EUGENIA DOES WHAT SHE CAN . . . . . 309
XXIII. MARISE LOOKS DOWN ON THE STARS. . . 323
_PART FOUR_
XXIV. NEALE'S RETURN. . . . . . . . . . . 331
XXV. MARISE'S COMING-OF-AGE. . . . . . . 338
XXVI. MARISE LOOKS AND SEES WHAT IS THERE 360
XXVII. THE FALL OF THE BIG PINE. . . . . . 367
XXVIII. TWO GOOD-BYES . . . . . . . . . . . 380
XXIX. VIGNETTES FROM HOME-LIFE. . . . . . 390
THE BRIMMING CUP
CHAPTER I
_PRELUDE_
SUNSET ON ROCCA DI PAPA
_An Hour in the Life of Two Modern Young People_
April, 1909.
Lounging idly in the deserted little waiting-room was the usual shabby,
bored, lonely ticket-seller, prodigiously indifferent to the grave
beauty of the scene before him and to the throng of ancient memories
jostling him where he stood. Without troubling to look at his watch, he
informed the two young foreigners that they had a long hour to wait
before the cable-railway would send a car down to the Campagna. His lazy
nonchalance was faintly colored with the satisfaction, common to his
profession, in the discomfiture of travelers.
Their look upon him was of amazed gratitude. Evidently they did not
understand Italian, he thought, and repeated his information more
slowly, with an unrecognizable word or two of badly pronounced English
thrown in. He felt slightly vexed that he could not make them feel the
proper annoyance, and added, "It may even be so late that the signori
would miss the connection for the last tramway car back to Rome. It is a
long walk back to the city across the Campagna."
They continued to gaze at him with delight. "I've got to tip him for
that!" said the young man, reaching vigorously into a pocket.
The girl's answering laugh, like the inward look of her eyes, showed
only a preoccupied attention. She had the concentrated absent aspect of
a person who has just heard vital tidings and can attend to nothing
else. She said, "Oh, Neale, how ridiculous of you. He couldn't possibly
have the least idea what he's done to deserve getting paid for."
At the sound of her voice, the tone in which these words were
pronounced, the ticket-seller looked at her hard, with a bold,
intrusive, diagnosing stare: "Lovers!" he told himself conclusively. He
accepted with a vast incuriosity as to reason the coin which the young
foreigner put into his hand, and, ringing it suspiciously on his table,
divided his appraising attention between its clear answer to his
challenge, and the sound of the young man's voice as he answered his
sweetheart, "Of course he hasn't any idea what he's done to deserve it.
Who ever has? You don't suppose for a moment I've any idea what I've
done to deserve mine?"
The ticket-seller smiled secretly into his dark mustache. "I wonder if
_my_ voice quivered and deepened like that, when I was courting
Annunziata?" he asked himself. He glanced up from pocketing the coin,
and caught the look which passed between the two. He felt as though
someone had laid hands on him and shaken him. "_Dio mio_" he thought.
"They are in the hottest of it."
The young foreigners went across the tracks and established themselves
on the rocks, partly out of sight, just at the brink of the great drop
to the Campagna. The setting sun was full in their faces. But they did
not see it, seeing only each other.
CHAPTER Page
I. PRELUDE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
II. INTERLUDE . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
_PART ONE_
III. OLD MR. WELLES AND YOUNG MR. MARSH. 29
IV. TABLE TALK. . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
V. A LITTLE GIRL AND HER MOTHER. . . . 64
VI. THINGS TAKE THEIR COURSE. . . . . . 80
VII. THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREUS . . . . . 91
VIII. WHAT GOES ON INSIDE . . . . . . . . 115
IX. THE GENT AROUND THE LADY. . . . . . 130
X. AT THE MILL . . . . . . . . . . . . 151
_PART TWO_
XI. IN AUNT HETTY'S GARDEN. . . . . . . 179
XII. HEARD FROM THE STUDY. . . . . . . . 199
XIII. ALONG THE EAGLE ROCK BROOK. . . . . 215
XIV. BESIDE THE ONION-BED. . . . . . . . 224
XV. HOME-LIFE . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
XVI. MASSAGE-CREAM; THEME AND VARIATIONS 256
XVII. THE SOUL OF NELLY POWERS. . . . . . 266
_PART THREE_
XVIII. BEFORE THE DAWN . . . . . . . . . . 279
XIX. MR. WELLES LIGHTS THE FUSE. . . . . 285
XX. A PRIMAEVAL HERITAGE. . . . . . . . 294
XXI. THE COUNSEL OF THE STARS. . . . . . 302
XXII. EUGENIA DOES WHAT SHE CAN . . . . . 309
XXIII. MARISE LOOKS DOWN ON THE STARS. . . 323
_PART FOUR_
XXIV. NEALE'S RETURN. . . . . . . . . . . 331
XXV. MARISE'S COMING-OF-AGE. . . . . . . 338
XXVI. MARISE LOOKS AND SEES WHAT IS THERE 360
XXVII. THE FALL OF THE BIG PINE. . . . . . 367
XXVIII. TWO GOOD-BYES . . . . . . . . . . . 380
XXIX. VIGNETTES FROM HOME-LIFE. . . . . . 390
THE BRIMMING CUP
CHAPTER I
_PRELUDE_
SUNSET ON ROCCA DI PAPA
_An Hour in the Life of Two Modern Young People_
April, 1909.
Lounging idly in the deserted little waiting-room was the usual shabby,
bored, lonely ticket-seller, prodigiously indifferent to the grave
beauty of the scene before him and to the throng of ancient memories
jostling him where he stood. Without troubling to look at his watch, he
informed the two young foreigners that they had a long hour to wait
before the cable-railway would send a car down to the Campagna. His lazy
nonchalance was faintly colored with the satisfaction, common to his
profession, in the discomfiture of travelers.
Their look upon him was of amazed gratitude. Evidently they did not
understand Italian, he thought, and repeated his information more
slowly, with an unrecognizable word or two of badly pronounced English
thrown in. He felt slightly vexed that he could not make them feel the
proper annoyance, and added, "It may even be so late that the signori
would miss the connection for the last tramway car back to Rome. It is a
long walk back to the city across the Campagna."
They continued to gaze at him with delight. "I've got to tip him for
that!" said the young man, reaching vigorously into a pocket.
The girl's answering laugh, like the inward look of her eyes, showed
only a preoccupied attention. She had the concentrated absent aspect of
a person who has just heard vital tidings and can attend to nothing
else. She said, "Oh, Neale, how ridiculous of you. He couldn't possibly
have the least idea what he's done to deserve getting paid for."
At the sound of her voice, the tone in which these words were
pronounced, the ticket-seller looked at her hard, with a bold,
intrusive, diagnosing stare: "Lovers!" he told himself conclusively. He
accepted with a vast incuriosity as to reason the coin which the young
foreigner put into his hand, and, ringing it suspiciously on his table,
divided his appraising attention between its clear answer to his
challenge, and the sound of the young man's voice as he answered his
sweetheart, "Of course he hasn't any idea what he's done to deserve it.
Who ever has? You don't suppose for a moment I've any idea what I've
done to deserve mine?"
The ticket-seller smiled secretly into his dark mustache. "I wonder if
_my_ voice quivered and deepened like that, when I was courting
Annunziata?" he asked himself. He glanced up from pocketing the coin,
and caught the look which passed between the two. He felt as though
someone had laid hands on him and shaken him. "_Dio mio_" he thought.
"They are in the hottest of it."
The young foreigners went across the tracks and established themselves
on the rocks, partly out of sight, just at the brink of the great drop
to the Campagna. The setting sun was full in their faces. But they did
not see it, seeing only each other.
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