United States or Bahamas ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Milton, it appears, was in the habit of dropping in, almost daily, in his walk City-wards from Aldersgate Street, on a kinsman of his, named Blackborough, whose house was in St. Martin's-le-Grand Lane i.e. in that bend of Aldersgate Street which was within the Gate, and where now the General Post-Office of London stands.
Jim was always literal. "Angela and Beatrice paint beautifully," Cicely said. "We are going to make sketches at Blackborough this afternoon. Will you come with us, Jim? We are all going." "Yes, I'll come," said Jim. "Cicely, are you glad to see me home again?" "Yes, of course, I'm glad. We have all missed you awfully, Jim."
Martin's-le- Grand, which was hard by, a relation of our author's, one Blackborough, whom it was known he often visited; and upon this occasion the visits were the more narrowly observed, and possibly there might be a combination between both parties, the friends on both sides concentring in the same action, though on different behalfs.
But if she said little, her sister on one side and Willie Woodley on the other expressed themselves in lively alternation. "Look at that green dress with blue flounces," said Mrs. Westgate. "Quelle toilette!" "That's the Marquis of Blackborough," said the young man "the one in the white coat.
She had not spoken the word, and Jim's heart was heavy as he walked back to the garden by her side. "Blackborough Castle?" said the Squire at luncheon. "Well, if you like but you'll take your tea in the company of Dick, Tom and Harry, and I think you would be more comfortable at home."
Trebell, Lord Charles Cantelupe, and Blackborough ought certainly to have been presented to us in the flesh, however briefly and summarily, before we were asked to interest ourselves in their characters and the political situation arising from them. There is, however, one limitation to this principle.
But far be it from them to show a brother of their nephew's wife that he was not welcome among them. They talked of the weather, of Blackborough Castle, of Jim Graham's return, and of Walter's coming marriage with Muriel. "Well, that will be the first wedding in the new generation," said Mr. Birket. "But there will be another very soon.
Here, some day in July or August 1645, he was surprised into an interview with his girl-wife. The good Blackborough had consented to aid and abet, and had lent his house for the purpose; and, other friends being at hand to second him, he had opened, let us say, the door of the room in which Mary Powell was waiting, had ushered Milton in, and had left them together.
"We'll go to Blackborough Castle," said Dick, "and take the twankies. We must give them a little fun. Siskin, how about a picnic?" Mrs. Birket was telling Mrs. Clinton that Beatrice's engagement would be announced when they returned to London. "She is young," she said, "but both the girls are older in mind than in age." "You have educated them well," Mrs. Clinton said.
Word Of The Day