United States or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Edmund Montague was a young man to hold such a responsible position in the navy; but he was a bold, vigorous little Englishman, a sort of gentlemanly and well-educated John Bull terrier; a frank address, agreeable manners, and an utterly reckless temperament, which was qualified and curbed, however, by good sense and hard-earned experience. "Good-day to you, Mrs.
That cured the little thing, and when Carl came home, he found it quite well again. One day, just after he got back, Mrs. Montague drove up to the house with canary cage carefully done up in a shawl. She said that a bad-tempered housemaid, in cleaning the cage that morning, had gotten angry with the bird and struck it, breaking its leg.
She met Louis Hamblin at the door leading to the dining-saloon, but he was alone. "Where is Mrs. Montague?" Mona inquired, and wondering if he was going to be sick, for he looked pale, and seemed ill at ease. "Hasn't she been with you?" he asked, appearing surprised at her question. "I thought she was in her stateroom."
He turned from the poor boy and looked round with a frown, as he observed that, although the natives crowded round him at once, neither Gascoyne, nor Thorwald, nor Captain Montague showed any symptom of an intention to accompany him.
All that he put up with; but matters came to a head about ten days before the election, when one day Haskins came to his office with the engineers' estimates, and with his own figures of the probable cost of the extension. Most of the figures were much higher than those which Montague had worked out for himself. "We ought to do better on those contracts," he said, pointing to some of the items.
Montague might be able to give me some information regarding another lady of the same name." "All right; an introduction you shall have; but pray take heed to my warning, all the same, and look out for yourself," was the laughing rejoinder.
Just then Marguerite changed her seat, and, unobserved, the dissipated man glanced at the pure spirituelle face which had appeared as answer to his questioning words. "Yes, Madge, I am a veritable scoundrel; already I see before me one true and pure being." Was it a tear that glistened on the maiden's cheek as Montague Arnold once more contemplated the fair brow and madonna-like eyes?
He was a gigantic engine which drove all day and all night a machine for the making of money. Montague did not care much for money himself, and he wondered about it. What did the man want it for? What did he expect to accomplish by it? What was the moral code, the outlook upon life, of a man who gave all his time to heaping up money? What reason did he give to himself for his own career?
When the carriage taking them to dinner went away down the road, he sat on the parapet of the bridge in front of the house listening to the sound of the horses' feet, and telling himself that there was nothing left for him in life. If ever one man had been good to another, he had been good to Paul Montague, and now Paul Montague was robbing him of everything he valued in the world.
It is therefore not impossible that there may have been some small foundation for the extravagant stories with which malecontent pamphleteers amused the leisure of malecontent squires. In such stories Montague played a conspicuous part. He contrived, it was said, to be at once as rich as Croesus and as riotous as Mark Antony. His stud and his cellar were beyond all price.
Word Of The Day