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"Lord Fareham hates Whitehall. We have only attended there at great festivals, when my sister's absence would have been a slight upon her Majesty and the Duchess." "But my star, though seldom shining there, should have drawn some satellites to her orbit. You see, dearest, I can catch the note of Court flattery. Nay, I will press no questions.
We were at St. Germain on her birthday. You should have seen the toys and trinkets and sweetmeats which the Court showered upon her the King and Queen, Monsieur, Mademoiselle, the Princess Henrietta, her godmother everybody had a gift for the daughter of La folle Baronne Fareham.
Alarmed at hearing her sister talk in this melancholy strain, and still more alarmed by the change in her looks, sunken cheeks, hectic flush, fever-bright eyes, Angela entreated Lady Fareham to stay at the Manor, and be nursed and cared for.
Peregrine, still tamed by weakness, would lie on the grass at her feet, in a tranquil bliss such as he had never known before, and his fairy romances to Anne were becoming mitigated, when one day a big coach came along the road from Fareham, with two boys riding beside it, escorting Lady Archfield and Mistress Lucy. The lady was come to study Mrs.
The window was thrown open, and a figure appeared, clad in a white satin night-gown that glistened in the moonlight, with a deep collar of ermine, from which the handsomest face in London looked across the garden, to the spot where Fareham, the seconds, and the surgeon were grouped about De Malfort. It was Lady Castlemaine. She leant out of the window and called to them. "What has happened?
I never had a sister of my own blood, Angela. I was an only child. Solitude was my portion. I lived alone with my tutor and gouvernante a poor relation of my mother's alone in a house that was mostly deserted, for Lord and Lady Fareham were in London with the King, till the troubles brought the Court to Christchurch, and them to Chilton. I have had few in whom to confide.
He had not been very happy among the servants at Fareham, who laughed at his black face and Dutch English, and he would probably have gone willingly with Dutchmen; but Anne and her uncle were grieved, and felt as if they had failed in the trust that poor Sir Peregrine had left them. "He has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded?" Coriolanus.
"Will not your lordship bait your horses before you start?" Reuben asked deferentially. "No time, fellow. There is no time. How often must I tell you so?" retorted Fareham. Reuben's village breeding had given him an exaggerated respect for aristocracy.
It is perhaps as well, for it would be a sore trial to have to give up Christian women and pork, for their garlic-breathing houris and accursed kybobs of sheep's flesh. We had passed through Fareham and Botley during this conversation, and were now making our way down the Bishopstoke road.
"Then just whisper to him again, Osgod, that I have urgent need for speech with him. I suppose Beorn has not arrived?" "Beorn!" Osgod repeated vaguely. "The Thane of Fareham," the armourer said sharply. "Are your wits wool-gathering altogether?" "No, he is not here; nor has Wulf said a word of his coming, as he assuredly would have done had he expected him."