Susanne

“ Susanne! You will keep quiet and listen. Do you realize what you're doing, flirting with a man like Messerschmidt? Do you realize—has anything I've told you ever made an impression on you?—do you realize that except for an accident in time, that man could be one of the butchers who killed your mother? ”

“ Canterbury, 9th March 1684 (n.s.) , date of the promise of marriage between Jaques Basnage, ecuyer, ministre de Rouen (son of Jaques Basnage, advocate in the parliament of Normandie, and Marie Cognard) , and Susanne, daughter of Cyrus Dumoulin, ecuyer, ministre, and Marie de Marbais. ”

“ Charlotte Susanne, daughter of the deceased Pasteur Laurent Drelincourt, eldest brother of the Dean of Armagh, was married in the London French Church in the Savoy, in 1690, to John Barbot, author of Voyages to Guinea, in Churchill’s collection ”

“ In 1755, July 17th, Miss Jeanne Susanne de Rodon Trollett was married at Wandsworth to Lawrence Desborough; the lady’s noble names suggest the nobility of Anthony Trollet, Esq., who was buried there in 1751, aged 70. ”

“ If he runs, he'll lose. It's the best possible move. And, Jem ... there's another reason." Kimmensen had thought it all out. And it seemed to him that he could resolve all his convergent problems with this one move. He would stop Messerschmidt, he would pass his work on to Jem, and—perhaps this was a trifle more on his mind than he'd been willing to admit—once Messerschmidt had been deflated, Susanne would be bound to see her tragic error, and the three of them could settle down, and he could finish his life quietly. ”

“ Not many men had come whole out of the fighting years. Now his luck had run out, and that was the end of it. There were plenty of good men long in the ground. Now he'd join them, not having done badly. Nothing to be ashamed of, and a number of grounds for quiet pride, if truth be told. Still, it made him angry.
"Susanne ought to be home any moment," he growled.
Jem smiled. "Take it easy, Joe. You know how these kids are. She probably has to wait 'til somebody else's ready to leave so she can get a lift home."
Kimmensen grunted. "She could have found a way to get home in time. ”

“ Her husband had died in Amsterdam in 1710, being a Huguenot refuguee born at Loudun in France. Their children were James Samuel Crozé (born 1697, died 1714) , and two daughters Mary Anne and Susanne Mary. ”

“ He married Susanne Jousseaume, of Niort, and his third child was Samuel Jaumard. Samuel, junior, married Sophie, daughter of Elie Detandebaratz, a refugee from La Rochelle, and was the father of a third Samuel, styled “Esq. of Marylebone.” Samuel Jaumard, Esq., was born on 2nd July 1733 ”

“ A prosperous and well-connected family in the county of Limerick, the heads of which have long resided in Rathkeale, descends from a Huguenot refugee of Alsace, who left France at the Revocation epoch. Their surname is variously spelt, Delmege, or Dolmage. The first on record is a grandson of the refugee, known as Adam Dolmage of Rathkeale; his eldest son Julius was born in 1772, and married Susanne, daughter of Monsieur de Gorrequer, a French emigrant at the period of the first French Revolution, said to be a descendant of the Comtes de Morlaix. ”

“ Wakes in my soul wakes in my soul, some charms
of lovely Sue.
Though battle call me from thy arms,
William shall to his dear return,
Though cannons roar yet safe from harm,
My pretty Susan do not mourn,
Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
Least precious tears, least precious tears should
drop from Susans eye.
The boatswain gave the dreadfull.
The sails their swelling bosoms spread,
No longer must she stay on board,
They kiss'd; she sigh'd, and hung her head,
The list'ning boat unwilling rows to land,
Adieu she cried, adieu she cried, and wav'd her
lilly hand. ”

“ The quiet, stupid evening carried her back, in spirit, to the Susan of a few years ago, the shabby little ill-dressed clerk of Hunter, Baxter & Hunter, who had been such a limited and suppressed little person. The Susan of to-day was an erect, well-corseted, well-manicured woman of the world; a person of noticeable nicety of speech, accustomed to move in the very highest society. ”

“ They do not seem to me quite the Susan I love, but then, I am not a clever person; and it is undeniable that "Who is Dax?" is being asked now on every hand. If this interest continues, I am assured it [150] can only mean fame and fortune. I am very proud of Susan, as you must be.
But, Mr. Hunt, there is another side to my picture. In alluding to it I feel a sense of guilt toward Susan; I know she would not wish me to do so. Yet I feel that I must. If I may say so to you, Susan has quickened in me many starved affections, and they all center in her. ”

“ The white door opened as she spoke, and Susan's Norman nurse hurried in, her sparrow eyes transformed to stiletto points of indignation. "Ah, m'sieu—c'est trop fort! When I told you expressly to do nothing to excite the poor little one!" I rose, self-convicted, before her.
"Tais-toi, Annette!" exclaimed Susan sharply, her eyes too gleaming with indignation. "It is not your place to speak so to m'sieu, a man old enough to be your father—and more than a father to me! For shame! ”

“ Susan, there has been some dreadful, horrible mistake. It was not you, Susan, whom Lord Ruddington saw at Derlingham and in Traxelby church. He was misinformed. He has never seen you in his life. He does not want to marry you."
Susan stared at me, first, with a face as white as chalk. Then she reddened like a rose, and moaned like one wounded, with a choking moan.
"No, Miss Gertrude, no!" she pleaded in anguish, "Don't say it wasn't real. Don't say..."
"My poor Susan," I answered, "it wasn't real. But what does it matter? You have given him up for Gibson." ”

“ There is Susan. Which way lies the right? For all I know, I shall find Susan ugly, and she is a lady's-maid. But the point is, I have forced her to love me, with such a love as I did not expect to find in this world. Do not smile, do not imagine I think myself handsome, or in the least adorable. But I have read her last letter fifty times, and I know, if I draw back, if I tell Susan of this cruel tangle, it will break her heart. No, do not interrupt me! In such a case, I know how hard it is for you to believe that I am not mad. Dearest, help me, for God's sake! It's hard enough, God knows! ”

“ She was at Grandpont station in the 'bus yesterday. He read the name of the hotel, and asked Madame if you were here."
As usual, Susan's colour rushed back, with reinforcements. She began to tremble.
"It's that flower, Miss!" she gasped, "Georgette's flower! Oh, Miss Gertrude, I can't face him yet! I can't, I can't!"
"You don't need to, Susan," I said. "It isn't Lord Ruddington."
Susan moaned a little moan of thankfulness. But her face clouded again as I added:
"It is somebody else."
She searched my eyes. Then she asked, in an agonized whisper:
"Not ... It isn't ... Not Gibson, Miss?" ”

“ Next to the captain, Emmie found her best helper in Susan. Active, thoughtful, the neatest of packers, the most intelligent of maids, Susan was indeed “a treasure” to her young mistress.
“You seem to like the change,” said the cook to Susan, who was humming cheerfully to herself as she knelt beside a hamper which she was packing with china.
Susan did not pause to look up from her work as she answered, “I never ask myself whether I like it or not; my business is to make ready for it, and that is enough for me.”
“How dismal a house looks when everything in it is being pulled down and upset!” ”

“ Death hovers over them. He stoops and touches now one, now another with his wings, and quietly they slip down upon the parched and baking earth, for they are old and weary, and rest is sweet after the long burden of the day. ”

“ I knew that Susan might as well tell to-morrow's sun not to rise, to-morrow's tides not to flow, as tell Ruddington that to-morrow he must not invade Sainte Véronique. Nor could I blame him, or wonder at him. With such a letter as mine in his hand, I should have despised him if he had not flown on the wings of the wind.
"Stop crying, Susan," I said. And, with a bitterness which she did not understand, I added, "It is I who should be upset, not you."
"Yes, Miss, I know, Miss," sobbed Susan. "With you so ill and weak, it's horrible, it's dreadful!" ”

“ Susan was an industrious little girl, and in her childish way worked almost as hard as her mother. She helped to sweep the house, and nurse the baby, and mend the clothes, and was as busy as a bee. But she was always tidy; and though her clothes were often old and shabby, I never saw them dirty or ragged. Indeed, I must own that, [100] in point of neatness, Susan was even superior to my old friend Rose. ”

“ Your Chow—black, smoke blue, or red—is a creation apart. He is to dogdom what Hillhouse Avenue is to Birch Street—the wrong end, bien entendu. His blood is so blue that his tongue is purple; and, like Susan's conception of Gertrude, he is a living confession of faith in the rightness of the right people, a living rebuke to the wrongness of the wrong; the right people being, of course, that master god or mistress goddess whom he worships, with their immediate entourage. No others need apply for even cursory notice, much less respect. ”

“ The sweet voice rings up the ladder. The start that the thief on the top of it gives, when he hears her, condemns him to all eternity in Susan’s eyes. ‘No one,’ argues Susan to herself, ‘ever starts unless he is guilty.’ Susan is very young.
The man casts a sidelong glance at her. It is so one-sided that Susan hardly sees him, but evidently he is trembling, conscience-stricken, because he makes no reply. ”

“ I remembered my oath to Susan at Traxelby. I remembered that she had given up Gibson. I recalled, with anger, that at this very moment she was prowling about to catch some secret glimpse of her lover.
"Yes," he repeated. "Minorities suffer. It is the way of the world. I renounce Susan, and what does it amount to? A mere lady's-maid sees me break faith and drop her in favour of wealth and beauty. She loses her faith in God and man. Possibly, she even has the bad taste to go and die. ”

“ Susan's mine! I was a dirty hound, Ma'am, ever to say as I would give her up, even if it's the Emperor of France that comes begging for her with a sack of gold and dymonds. Susan's mine! She's the only girl in the world I ever cared about. Yes, Ma'am," he cried proudly, raising his voice and taking a step forward, "and Susan's never cared a straw about any man in the world 'cept me, and she never shall."
"Susan is a free woman, Gibson," I said. "Ever since we left Traxelby she hasn't mentioned your name. I know nothing about it. But how do you know that Susan ever cared for you? ”

“ Gertrude is superb."
"I understand her less than ever," said Susan.
"I understand her quite well," said Miss Goucher. "But your long silence, Mr. Hunt—that I can't understand."
"I can," Susan exclaimed. "Ambo's very bones dislike her. So do mine. Do you remember how I used to shock you, Ambo, when I first came here—saying somebody or other was no damn good? Well, I can't help it; it's stronger than I am. Mrs. Hunt's no——"
"Oh, child!" struck in Miss Goucher. "How much you have still to learn!" Then she addressed me: "I've never seen a more distinguished person than Mrs. Hunt. ”

“ I was thinking of Susan, not of Jimmy. For me in those days, I fear, the world consisted of Susan, and of certain negligible phantoms—the remainder of the human race. It is not an état d'âme that Susan admires, or that I much admire; but in those days it was certainly mine. And this is the worst of a lonely passion: the more one loves in secret, without fulfillment—and however unselfishly—the more one excludes. ”

“ I don't mean that you're to lie awake and let it worry you. We shall write Lord Ruddington a better answer to-morrow than we can to-day. Meanwhile, it won't do him any harm to be kept waiting a few hours longer."
"No," said Susan, "it won't. I've always heard it said that it does them no good to throw yourself at their heads."
For once she did not call me "Miss," and both the matter and the manner of her speech jarred on me. From Susan it sounded hard and vulgar. It was as if my rare and sweet Susan had suddenly descended to live a moment of her life two or three planes lower down. ”

“ In the autumn Susan went home for a week, for the Lancaster family was convulsed by the prospect of Alfie's marriage to a little nobody whose father kept a large bakery in the Mission, and Susan was needed to brace Alfred's mother for the blow. Mary Lou's old admirer and his little, invalid wife, were staying at the house now, and Susan found "Ferd" a sad blow to her old romantic vision of him: a stout, little, ruddy-cheeked man, too brilliantly dressed, with hair turning gray, and an offensive habit of attacking the idle rich for Susan's benefit, and dilating upon his own business successes. ”

“ She was silent again for several moments, pondering. I observed her furtively. Nothing was more distant from my desire than any addition, of any age, male or female, to my present family. Heaven, in its great and unwonted kindness, had sent me Susan; she was—to my thinking—perfect; and she was enough. Whether in art or in life I am no lover of an avoidable anticlimax. But Susan's secret purposes were not mine.
"Ambo," she resumed, "I guess if you'd ever lived in Birch Street you'd feel differently about boys."
"I doubt it, Susan." [50]
"I'm sure you'd feel differently about Jimmy." ”

“ Other women glanced at her; she knew they thought her strangely unmoved. She thought herself so. But she knew that running under the serene surface of her life was a dazzling great river of joy! Susan could not look upon it yet. Her eyes were blinded.
Presents came in, more presents. A powder box from Ella, candle-sticks from Emily, a curiously embroidered tablecloth from the Kenneth Saunders in Switzerland. And from old Mrs. Saunders a rather touching note, a request that Susan buy herself "something pretty," with a check for fifty dollars, "from her sick old friend, Fanny Saunders." ”