She wanted to triumph with
contempt, not with submission.
One morning in September, coming with her mother out of the marble
church at Milan, she perceived that a gentleman who had just passed
her on his way into the cathedral and whose face she had not noticed,
had quickly raised his hat, with a suppressed ejaculation. She
involuntarily glanced back; the gentleman had paused, again
uncovering, and Captain Jay stood saluting her in the Italian
sunshine. "Oh, good-morning!" she said, and walked on, pursuing her
course; her mother was a little in front. She overtook her in a
moment, with an unreasonable sense, like a gust of cold air, that men
were worse than ever, for Captain Jay had apparently moved into the
church. Her mother turned as they met, and suddenly, as she looked
back, an expression of peculiar sweetness came into this lady's eyes.
It made Rose's take the same direction and rest a second time on
Captain Jay, who was planted just where he had stood a minute before.
He immediately came forward, asking Rose with great gravity if he
might speak to her a moment, while Mrs. Tramore went her way again.
He had the expression of a man who wished to say something very
important; yet his next words were simple enough and consisted of the
remark that he had not seen her for a year.
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