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"Talk of the Old Man of the Sea!" she sighed. "He was an afternoon caller compared with Simpkins. She's been on my back for twenty years. I suppose she will be for another twenty, unless I slam the door of the family vault in her face." "Couldn't Beau help you?" I asked. "Even Beau is powerless against her. She has hypnotized him with marrow bones."
Chandler protracted his walk until the Forties began to intersect the great and glittering primrose way, for the evening was yet young, and when one is of the beau monde only one day in seventy, one loves to protract the pleasure. Eyes bright, sinister, curious, admiring, provocative, alluring were bent upon him, for his garb and air proclaimed him a devotee to the hour of solace and pleasure.
"And how can you know that I have ever even seen Miss Schuyler?" he asked, rather sulkily. "She told me all about it, my dear. And I inferred from the young lady's manner that she lived but to renew the experience. She is down at Surgeon-General Cochraine's. Mrs. Cochraine is her aunt. Seriously, I want you to be a good little beau, and keep her here as long as possible.
I have told you, Richard, there has been no sensation in town equal to that of your Maryland beauty, since Lady Sarah Lennox. You may have some notion of the old beau Horry can be when he tries, and he is over-fond of Miss Dolly she puts him in mind of some canvas or other of Sir Peter's.
On the contrary, his spirits were buoyant beyond example, almost; and, riding on with General Fitz Lee, he sang in his gallant voice his favorite ditties "Come out of the Wilderness!" and "Jine the Cavalry!" As he rode on thus, he was the beau ideal of a cavalier. His seat in the saddle was firm; his blue eyes dazzling; his heavy mustache curled with laughter at the least provocation.
Reybold had escorted the page's sister to the Congressional cemetery, and had observed even Old Beau to come with a wreath of flowers and hobble to the grave and deposit them there. But the Judge, remorseless in death as frivolous in life, never came near his mourning wife and daughter in their severest sorrow. Mrs.
Here were true castles in the air, which he could people with shapes according to his fancy; but he chose the most common abstract conceptions, such as, the Clerk of the Weather, the Beau Ideal, Mr. So- they-say, the Coming Man, and other ubiquitous personages, whom we continually hear of, but never see.
'Do not speak of the time beyond the month, said Chloe, so urgently on a rapid breath as to cause Mr. Beamish to cast an inquiring look at her. She answered it, 'Is not one month of brightness as much as we can ask for? The beau clapped his elbows complacently to his sides in philosophical concord with her sentiment. In the afternoon, on the parade, they were joined by Mr.
At all events, James Ellison, sitting down to his supper table that evening, was in a genial mood. "Lizzie," he said, smiling across the table at his wife, "I saw an old beau of yours to-day Dan Witham. He didn't send any love to you, though." "No," responded Mrs. Ellison, and added, somewhat seriously, "and he has no love for you, either. I hope you don't have much business dealing with him."
I object only to giving it my hair instead." "I believe you'll find a little in my knapsack," gravely replied Dan, to be assailed on the spot by a chorus of comic demands. "I say, Beau, have you any rouge on hand? I'm growing pale. Please drop a little cologne on this handkerchief, my boy. May I borrow your powder puff? I've been sitting in the sun.
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