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"Thinkest thou we can do that, my Phyllis, any better than now?" asked Sir Norman Hylton. "We can all try," said Amphillis, softly. "And God, our God, shall bless us." She had one brother, Count Loys the First of Flanders, who fell at Crecy. Many modern writers call her Jeanne; but her name in the contemporary public records of England is invariably Margareta.
After some conversation on Ella's Continental experiences, Jessie suddenly, as Ella's uneasy instinct foresaw, turned to Mrs. Hylton. 'Of course, Ella told you what a surprise she had at Campden Hill yesterday? Weren't you electrified? 'No doubt I should have been, said Mrs. Hylton, who detested Jessie, 'only Ella did not think fit to mention it. 'Oh, I wonder at that!
His eyelids fluttered like those of a man who has received a bullet through him, and his mouth set grimly. "You might have spared me that," said he. He bent forward. "Hylton, why did you let her do it?" "I might just as well have tried to stop the thunder," said I, seeing no reason why this young woman should not bear the blame for her folly.
"Well?" she said after a pause. "I came over to Royat, this morning," said Lackaday, "to call on you and bid you good-bye." "Why?" she asked in a low voice. "It appeared to be ordinary courtesy." "Was there anything particular you wanted to say to me?" "Perhaps to supplement just the little I could tell you yesterday afternoon." "Captain Hylton supplemented it after you left.
And somehow, somewhere, and for some reason Amphillis pushed the question no further than this the thought of assisting, by her silence, in the ruin of Norman Hylton, seemed much harder to bear than the prospect of being hated by Ricarda Altham, even though it were for ever and ever. When these meditations had burned within her for a few seconds, Amphillis spoke.
"And you called me after her, Mother!" said little fair-haired Margaret. "But what became of the naughty man who didn't want to come and see his poor mother when she was so sick and unhappy, Mother?" asked compassionate little Regina. "Naughty man!" echoed Baby Perrotine. Lady Hylton stroked her little Margaret's hair. "He led not a happy life, my darlings; but we will not talk about him.
She bent forward, and her face was that of the woman whom I had met in the rain and mud and stark reality of the war. "Why didn't you tell me?" If a glance could destroy, if Lady Auriol had been a Gorgon or a basilisk or a cockatrice, then had I been a slain Anthony Hylton. "Why didn't you tell me?" The far-flung gesture of her arm ending in outspread fingers might have been that of Elodie.
Hylton, stiffly; 'if I cannot have the reality, I prefer to do without even the best imitations. 'Why, you're deserting us, I declare! Ella, you must take her to see the window, and then perhaps she will change her opinion. 'I always tell my girls, said Mrs.
"Elodie I present Monsieur le Capitaine Hylton, of whom you have heard me speak so much." To me "Madame Patou," said he. "Madame," said I. We shook hands. I professed enchantment. "I have spoken much about you to Captain Hylton," said Lackaday quickly. "So it seems," said I, following the good fellow's lead, "as if I were renewing an old acquaintance."
"My friend, Hylton Chater Mr. Gordon Gregg," he said, introducing us, and then when, as we shook hands, the clean-shaven man exclaimed, smiling pleasantly "Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Gregg. You are not a stranger by any means to Hornby or myself. Indeed, we've got a couple of your books on board. But I had no idea you lived out here." "At Ardenza," I said.
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