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Miss Fanshaw had now resumed her company face and attitude; she sat in prudent silence, whilst Lady N addressed her conversation to Isabella and Matilda, whose thoughts did not seem to be totally engrossed by their own persons. Dr. X had prepared this lady to think favourably of Mad. de Rosier's pupils, by the account which he had given her of Isabella's remarks upon Zeluco.
Herron's narrow, cold face lighted up. He knew what everybody in their set knew of Fanshaw's domestic affairs, but like everybody else he had pretended not to know. He changed his expression to one of shock and indignation. "You astound me!" he exclaimed. "It is incredible!" "He told me himself not an hour ago," said Fanshaw. "I went to him as a friend to ask him to help me out of a hole.
This was a translation of the great Epic Poem of Portugal, the Lusiad of Camoens, which had as yet been represented to the English reader only through the inadequate version of Fanshaw.
Fanshaw. Another note, to some verses to the reader, tells us that both translations were made 'neer twenty years agone, and, as we should expect, the Pastor fido first; and further, that the latter remained in manuscript owing to the appearance of Fanshawe's version, which is spoken of in terms of warm admiration.
'A Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments' dear me! that must be a curious performance by a smith! a common smith!" Isabella, good-naturedly, stopped her from farther absurd exclamations by turning to the title-page of the book and showing her the words "Adam Smith." "Ah! A stands for Adam! very true I thought it was a smith," said Miss Fanshaw.
Among other things told my Lady how my Lady Fanshaw is fallen out with her only for speaking in behalf of the French, which my Lady wonders at, they having been formerly like sisters, but we see there is no true lasting friendship in the world. Thence to my house, where I took great pride to lead her through the Court by the hand, she being very fine, and her page carrying up her train.
"Not a red!" Fanshaw paled and pinched in his lips. "I'm a desperate man. I'm ruined. Leonora " Dumont shook his head, the veins swelling in his forehead and neck. The last strand of his self-restraint snapped. "Leave her out of this! She has no claim on me NOW and YOU never had." Fanshaw stared at him, then sprang to his feet, all in a blaze.
It is doubtful if Dumont himself could have done so well, handicapped as he would have been on that day by the Fanshaw scandal. Giddings cajoled and threatened, retreated slowly here, advanced intrepidly there. On the one side, he held back wavering banks and trust companies, persuading some that all was well, warning others that if they pressed him they would lose all.
"That's from the fire, but you don't think so because you're all smoking cigars. That's just the way I got my first faint suspicion about the chart." "Do you mean Pendragon's chart of his Pacific Islands?" asked Fanshaw. "You thought it was a chart of the Pacific Islands," answered Brown. "Put a feather with a fossil and a bit of coral and everyone will think it's a specimen.
Yes, you see he's dead again " "Again? Why, has he ever been dead before?" "Dead before? No! Do you reckon a man has got as many lives as a cat? But you bet you he's awful dead now, poor old boy, and I wish I'd never seen this day. I don't want no better friend than Buck Fanshaw. I knowed him by the back; and when I know a man and like him, I freeze to him you hear me.
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