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To lose his own child would be a grief overwhelming enough; but to have given the order that hurried another man's only boy into eternity that would be a tragedy that nothing could ever make right. "I have done the best I knew," muttered Mr. Carlton over and over to himself. "I have done toward his son precisely as I would have done toward my own.
Opposite, and just below the town, is Carlton Island, on which stand the ruins of an old French fortification, the walls and trenches and the solitary chimneys, from which the wooden barracks have rotted or been burned away, remain as melancholy testimonials of the bloody strifes between the red men of the forest, and the pioneers of civilization who were driving them from the hunting grounds of their fathers.
As she was wiping her eyes to take away the redness, which was a sure way to increase it, I ventured to join her, and inquired with an earnestness I could not conceal, what had happened to distress her. "These are not tears of distress," said she, sweetly smiling. "I am quite ashamed that I have so little self-control; but Mrs. Carlton has given me so much pleasure!
Carlton did not wish to interrupt him, thinking it best to hear his whole difficulty; so Charles proceeded: "When a system is consistent, at least it does not condemn itself. Consistency is not truth, but truth is consistency. Now, I am not a fit judge whether or not a certain system is true, but I may be quite a judge whether it is consistent with itself.
Carlton says Jackson is more steel-like than usual, and we know how it fared with Garnett and with others. There will be a court-martial. I am very anxious." "I am not," said Edward stoutly. "There will be an honourable acquittal. We must write and tell Judith that she's not to worry! Richard Cleave did nothing that he should not have done." "Of course, we know that.
Our great men mean to shell out, I tell you; we have got Croucher; we will denounce the Carlton and corruption all over the kingdom; and if that won't do, we will swear till we are black in the face, that the King of Hanover is engaged in a plot to dethrone our young Queen:" and the triumphant secretary wished the worthy pair good morning.
Fitzgerald," she murmured. Peter Ruff glanced up at the clock. "It is a long story," he said. "Are you in a hurry, Mrs. Dory? "Not at all," she assured him, "unless you want to close you office, or anything. It must be nearly one o'clock." "I wonder," he asked, "if you would do me the honour of lunching with me? We might go to the Prince's or the Carlton whichever you prefer.
Most of the men seemed to be glad of this. They preferred taking their chances in an open trench during heavy shell fire. Realists and Romanticists lived side by side in the traveling trench. "My Little Gray Home in the West" was the modest legend over one apartment. The "Ritz Carlton" was next door to "The Rats' Retreat," with "Vermin Villa" next door but one.
Miss Morris had her hand on the arm of one of the equerries, who was battling good-naturedly with the crowd, and trying to draw her away from two persistent youths in diplomatic uniform who were laughing and pressing forward in close pursuit on the other side. Carlton approached her with a certain feeling of diffidence, which was most unusual to him, and asked if she were dancing. "Mr.
"What are you going to do on The Tribune?" she asked. "Anything," he answered, with an indefinable shrug. "'Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die. What are you going to do?" "The same," replied Ruth. "'Society,''Mother's Corner,''Under the Evening Lamp, and 'In the Kitchen with Aunt Jenny." He laughed infectiously. "I wish Carlton could hear you say that."
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