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On the day when my bandage was taken off for the first time, I could only see indistinctly. When I ran into the room at the rectory, I guessed it was Oscar rather than knew it was Oscar. My father's grey head, and Mrs. Finch's woman's dress, would no doubt have helped anybody in my place to fix as I did on the right man. But this is all different now.
Finch's polite request to me that I would write to her from Marseilles. My main motive in doing this was, I confess, to obtain, through Mrs. Finch, some news of Lucilla. After posting the letter, I attended to another duty which I had neglected while my father was in danger of death.
If you had once set your mind on it, you would have accomplished it. I always cite Theodora Martindale as the person who cannot be resisted. 'You see your mistake, returned Theodora. A gentleman here greeted her, then claimed Mrs. Finch's attention, and evidently by his desire, she turned to Violet, and presented him as her cousin, Mr. Gardner, an old friend of Captain Martindale.
Finch's last words at parting reminded me, once more, that we had one thing at least to be thankful for under the circumstances sad as they otherwise were. "Most fortunate, Madame Pratolungo, that I was at home. What would you have done without me?" Events at the Bedside
"If," said he, "a finch's nest is placed on the Serpentine it fills and breaks to pieces, but a thrush's nest is still as dry as the cup of a swan's back." How the thrushes applauded! Now they knew why they lined their nests with mud, and when Mrs. Finch called out, "We don't place our nests on the Serpentine," they did what they should have done at first: chased her from the meeting.
From the days of the Tudors to the rise of Oliver Cromwell, the Reader's feasts had been amongst the most sumptuous and ostentatious entertainments of the town the Sergeant's feasts scarcely surpassing them in splendor, the inaugural dinners of lord mayors often lagging behind them in expense. But Heneage Finch's lavish hospitality outstripped the doings of all previous Readers.
On the return journey to Southwark, the Southwark of Chaucer's Tabard, the pilgrim among these memories of the past may tread the ground where Finch's Grotto Gardens once re-echoed to laughter and song. They were established in 1760 by one Thomas Finch, who was of the fraternity of Thomas Keyse, even though he was but a Herald Painter.
"And then I'll make him one." The corners of Mr. Finch's mouth twitched perceptibly. "Gently, dear sir! Remember, please, that I am only concerned with the immediate situation. To-morrow I start again for Bristol, leaving the future to be dealt with as your prudence may direct.
"Lucilla went out a little while since," I said, "to take a turn in the garden." "I'll go and find her," said Oscar. "Wait here, Nugent. I'll bring her in." He left the room. Before he could close the door one of the servants appeared, to claim Mrs. Finch's private ear, on some mysterious domestic emergency.
If a woman can do that well: who shall demand more from her? You don't want a rose to sing. And I think wit is out of place where there's great beauty; as I wouldn't have a Queen to cut jokes on her throne. I say, Pendennis," here broke off the enthusiastic youth, "have you got another cigar? Shall we go into Finch's, and have a game at billiards? Just one it's quite early yet.
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