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One of the least exceptional passages in the late Charles Greville's Memoirs is the description of the ball given by the King, at which the two young queens to be were present.
Like Monsieur Gréville's, it was plain and solid, reaching as high as the wall. Only the lime-trees and the second story windows of the house could be seen above it. On the top it bore an iron medallion, on which was fastened a huge pair of scissors. There was a smaller pair on each gable of the house, also.
Mrs. Rogers was Mr. Greville's sister, and for that reason, though she was no real relation, Carmel called her Aunt Hilda. She had been a belle in her youth, and she was still pretty with the pathetic beauty that often shines in the faces of those who have suffered great loss.
"The sum he demanded was due for debts of honour, which he had a slip of paper in Greville's own handwriting to prove." Mr.
Joyce was crying, up in old Monsieur Gréville's tallest pear-tree. She had gone down to the farthest corner of the garden, out of sight of the house, for she did not want any one to know that she was miserable enough to cry.
Greville's Maxims, Characters, and Reflections ; a book which is entitled to much more praise than it has received: 'ARISTARCHUS is charming: how full of knowledge, of sense, of sentiment.
On this side Greville's teaching was purely utilitarian. Her position was considered as a calling, success in which demanded certain proprieties and accomplishments, only to be attained by the practice of habitual self-control, alike in doing and in not doing.
Greville's pages. It was not the Peelites, but Lord John Russell and the Whigs, who, after the list of the Cabinet and of the chief officers of the State had been agreed on between Lord Aberdeen and Lord John Russell, and had been submitted to and approved by the Queen, objected to the composition of the Cabinet as 'too Peelite, and strove to change the arrangements made originally with Lord John Russell's entire acquiescence.
Greville's mind at these words; but her husband's manner, though careless, preventing all further expostulation, she was compelled to suppress, if she could not conquer, her anxiety. At length, the storm that Mary had long felt was brooding in this unnatural calm, burst over her, and opened Mrs. Greville's eyes at once.
"My father may as well plead to the hard flint as to Alfred Greville's feelings," muttered Percy. "Ellen, you know not what you ask; would you have my father debase himself to a wretch like that?" "'Tis Mr. Greville who will be debased, and not my uncle, Percy.
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