United States or Madagascar ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Bingle himself grinned shamefacedly through his tears and choked up so that the words would not come without being resolutely forced through a tightened throat, the sympathetic audience, including Mrs. Bingle and Melissa and on one occasion an ancient maiden from the floor above wept copiously and with the most flattering clamour.
He had heard at Seleukus's house where his young mistress was staying, and had made friends with the chief priest's servants. When, late in the evening, he heard that Melissa was still with Caesar, he had become so uneasy that he had waited the whole night through, first on the steps of a staircase, then walking up and down outside the Serapeum.
There she stood, though the fire was out, weeping bitterly, and covering her wrinkled face with her hands, as though she quailed before the eyes of the girl she must so deeply grieve. One glance at the woman, and the tears which trickled through her fingers and down her lean arms told Melissa that something dreadful had happened.
"What was that for?" asked Melissa. "It was a sea view, with boats and things. Seemed a pretty good notion to me." "Why, yes." "But there was one old codger come along who didn't seem to like it. Specs and white whiskers standing out. Lot of women with him. 'Well, I declare, says he, 'what are we coming to? I can't understand how Mr.
He was right; a few minutes later the chariot drew up close to Melissa, and she managed to tell Samonicus all that had happened in so courteous and graceful a manner that, far from being offended, he could wish every success to the cure his great friend had begun.
You once said your native city was dear to you." "So it is," returned Melissa, who, at his last words had grown first red and then pale; "but Caesar can not surely be so narrow-minded as to punish a whole great city for what the poor daughter of a gem-cutter has done." "You are thinking of my Achilles," answered the philosopher.
The portrait of the dead may perish if it may but save the life of him who wrought it so lovingly." She turned away her face as she gave the philosopher her hand, and then hastily left the room. Melissa flew after her and, with overflowing gratitude, besought the sobbing lady not to weep.
At this Melissa took courage; she turned to Serapion and modestly addressed him: "You, sir, look like a grave, kind man, and seem to have a regard for my brother. You, then, will help us, no doubt, to cure him of an illusion which troubles us. A dead girl, he says, met him, and he touched her hand." "And do you, sweet child, think that impossible?" the Magian asked with gentle gravity.
When Nemesianus began to bind up his wounded brother's head with a handkerchief handed to him by Melissa, and Caracalla saw the gaping wounds he had inflicted, he became quieter, and said: "I think those lips will not try to steal kisses again for some time from honorable maidens.
The young man stood still, surprised and startled to see Melissa; but the lady Berenike said, calmly, "Now that I have learned the honor that has been accorded to you, too, by the master whom you so faithfully serve, the poor injured man whom you call your brother shall be made welcome within these walls. He is my companion in suffering.
Word Of The Day