Page:What Maisie Knew (Chicago & New York, Herbert S. Stone & Co., 1897).djvu/171

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WHAT MAISIE KNEW
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quaintance, somehow recalled more familiarity than Maisie could feel. A rich, strong, expressive affection, in short, pounced upon her in the shape of a handsomer, nobler, older Mrs. Beale. It was like making a fine friend, and they had n't been a minute together before she felt elated at the way she had met the choice imposed upon her in the cab. There was a whole future in the combination of Mrs. Beale's beauty and Mrs. Beale's hug. She seemed to Maisie charming to behold, and also to have no connection at all with anybody who had once had meals in the nursery and mended underclothing. The child knew one of her father's wives was a woman of fashion, but she had always dimly made a distinction, not applying that epithet without reserve to the other. Mrs. Beale, since their separation, had acquired a conspicuous right to it, and Maisie's first flush of response to her present delight colored all her splendor with meanings that, this time, were sweet. She had told Sir Claude that she was afraid of the lady in the Regent's Park; but she was not too much afraid to rejoice aloud on the very spot. "Why, aren't you beautiful? Isn't she beautiful, Sir Claude—isn't she?"