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Scribe’s farces will teach them more important lessons, and they will obtain an instructive example in the last line of a vaudeville, where an injured husband presents himself at the fall of the curtain, and, as he bows to the audience, embraces both his wife and her lover, exclaiming, “Maintenant je suis heureux ma femme mon meilleur ami!” He then may snap his fingers at Charles Phillips and Adolphus: he has not only proved his affection to his wife, but his confidence in his friend.
She sat down and began the accompaniment of that most exquisitely tender song, "De ton coeur bannis les alarmes, Qu'un songe heureux seche les larmes Qui coulent encore de tes yeux." The words were hardly audible; but we were so moved by the marvellous purity of the pathetic voice that tears stood in our eyes. As for the singer, tears rolled down his face.
Cher Monsieur Reeve, J'etais bien sur de vous faire plaisir en vous envoyant les discours prononces sur la tombe de M. Mignet. Celui de M. Martha est le plus remarquable; M. Jules Simon a tres bien parle aussi; mais on peut trouver cependant que M. Martha l'emporte. Je suis tres sensible a votre amicale invitation, et je serai heureux de visiter cet ete votre ermitage de Foxholes.
I may be said to have passed the best years of my life in these six volumes, and my acquaintance with Raoul has never gone beyond a bow; and when he, who has so long pretended to be alive, is at last suffered to pretend to be dead, I am sometimes reminded of a saying in an earlier volume: "Enfin, dit Miss Stewart," and it was of Bragelonne she spoke "enfin il a fait quelquechose: c'est, ma foi! bien heureux."
The Corsair's wife, whose name was Corsine, was enchanted at this, and loved the four infants so much the more for it. She named the Princess, Belle-Etoile, her eldest brother, Petit-Soleil, the second, Heureux, and the son of Brunette, Cheri. As they grew older, the Corsair applied himself seriously to their education, as he felt convinced there was some great mystery attached to their birth.
"Who is this?" asked Major White, aroused to a sense of stolid curiosity which few of his fellow-men had the power of awakening. "Oh, that," said Joan, looking towards the door "that is Mr. Percy Roden." "Pour etre heureux, il ne faut avoir rien a oublier."
I have read in a capable French paper that "l'on est heureux d'avoir pu applaudir une oeuvre vraiment noble, vraiment pure," in the play of M. Bataille; and I believe it. Are those quite the words one would use about the play in English? They are not quite the words I would use about the play in English.
In any case, however, she constitutes a danger, a grave danger, that must, at all costs, be removed." And looking into the other's face, he added, "You understand me?" "Perfectly." Just before two o'clock Gustav Heureux left the frowsy house in Vauxhall Bridge Road and walked through the silent street into Victoria Street.
Nuit plus douce que le jour, o belle nuit d'amour! Le temps fuit et sans retour emporte nos tendresses; Loin de cet heureux sejour le temps fuit sans retour! Zephyrs embrases, versez-nous vos caresses! Ah! Donnez-nous vos baisers! The echoes of Offenbach's wondrous air, a crystal stream of harmony, and of the passion-pulsing words, died through the vaulted heights.
Alexander of Russia styled himself un heureux accident; and should it ever be our fortune to receive Mr. Bragg as President, we shall only have to term him un malheureux accident. I believe that will contain all the difference."
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