United States or Bouvet Island ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"You come in the Germanic, your aunt tells me," she continued, as Bessie took a seat beside her. "Then you must have seen Miss Lucy Grey and her nephew, for they were on that ship, and I hear were met by somebody sent from Boston to tell 'em to come right on, for Miss Jerrold was very sick."
In the excitement, Bessie forgot everything but her enthusiasm for and her interest in Grey Jerrold; and her aunt, who was watching her closely, guessed the truth pretty accurately. But she made no remark except to say that from the garret window one could see Grey's Park, where Miss Lucy lived, and which Grey would probably one day inherit.
I saw him; I grappled with him right here at the bay-window where she met him, and he hurled me to grass as though I'd been a child. I want a horse! I want that man to-night. How did he get away from Sibley?" "Do you mean do you think it was Jerrold?" "Good God, yes! Who else could it be?
Captain Chester stood still and watched them. The little man had almost to run before he overtook the tall one. They were out of earshot when he finally did so. There were a few words on both sides. Then Jerrold shifted his light cane into his left hand, and Chester started forward, half expecting a fracas. To his astonishment, the two officers shook hands and parted.
She would see something in her that she had never seen before, that she couldn't bear to see. Anne's face would show her that Jerrold was her lover. Yet, if she had never seen that look, if she had never seen anything in Anne's face that was not beautiful, what did that mean but that Anne's love for him was beautiful? Before it had touched her body it had lived a long time in her soul.
"From Fort Sibley, Alice?" "Yes, mamma, all three, Miss Craven, Mrs. Hoyt, and Mr. Jerrold. Would you like to see it?" And, with rising color, she held forth the one in her hand. "Not now," was the answer, with a smile that told of confidence and gratification both. "It is about the german, I suppose?" "Yes.
Maisie sat alone in her own room, thinking it over. She didn't know yet that Eliot had come. He had arrived while she was with Anne and she had missed him on the way to Barrow Farm, driving up by the hill road while he walked down through the fields. She didn't think of Jerrold all at once. Her mind was taken up with Anne and Anne's unhappiness. She could see nothing else.
Caudle's Curtain Lectures and similar things were very popular at and a little before the middle of the century, but whose permanent literary value is of the smallest, if indeed it can be said to exist. But of these not a few of them more worthy if less prominent in their day than Jerrold there could be no end; and there would be little profit in trying to reach any.
I am so glad I studied Italian as hard as I did for my music, for it comes very easily to me now, and already I slip the pretty words from my halting tongue much more smoothly and quickly than you would imagine I could. Mrs. Jerrold isn't quite satisfied, and would prefer the Costanzi, only she doesn't believe in letting us girls stay at large hotels.
Midshipman Easy:* Everyman's Library 0 1 0 John Galt, *Annals of the Parish:* Everyman's Library 0 1 0 Susan Ferrier, *Marriage:* Routledge's edition 0 2 0 Douglas Jerrold, *Mrs. Names such as those of Charlotte Yonge and Dinah Craik are omitted intentionally. PROSE WRITERS: NON-IMAGINATIVE. £ s. d.
Word Of The Day