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"Does it not mean those who love Jesus?" asked Amy. "No; don't you remember it means scholars?" said Kitty, who was quicker than her sister, and rather proud of her better memory. "You are both right," said Mrs. Mordaunt. "The disciples of Jesus are those who come to learn of him; and the first lesson every one who comes to Jesus learns is to love him.
Aramis assumed that perilous charge. Charles Stuart had asked that Bishop Juxon might be permitted to visit him. Mordaunt had called on the bishop that very evening to apprise him of the religious desire expressed by the king and also of Cromwell's permission.
Herman Mordaunt may imagine all this in his heart, and Anneke be every thing that is innocent and delicate." "And how can my aunt Legge's informants know what is in Herman Mordaunt's heart?" "How? I suppose they judge by what they find in their own, my son; a common means of coming at a neighbour's failings, though I believe virtues are rarely detected by the same process."
Still, I could not complain of his manner, which was both polite and respectful; though I could scarce divest myself of the idea, that he was covertly amusing himself, the whole time. "You are a fortunate man, Mr. Littlepage," he commenced, "in having had it in your power to do so important a service to Miss Mordaunt.
Mordaunt is he here?" "Yes, I am here." Very steadily came Mordaunt's answer. Mordaunt himself took Max's place beside him. Bertrand looked up at him. "Monsieur " he said, and hesitated. "Ask him what he wants," muttered Max, gripping his brother-in-law's elbow with tense insistence. "Do you want anything?" He uttered the question at once, quite clearly, without emotion.
Adopting the Mordaunt Estate's sardonic suggestion, Martin Dyke had settled down to van life in a private alleyway next to Number 37. Anne Leffingwell deemed this criminally extravagant since the rental of a van must be prodigious. "So when father went West for six months, I just moved, and I'm going to be a potato and see how I like it.
The arrival of Spurling, and the agony which he had suffered when he had begun to suspect that the woman whom he loved was dead, had happened when the snow was on the ground; perhaps it was the sight of the frozen river and the white landscape which now caused him to remember so furiously the vengeance which he had planned, should Mordaunt prove to be the woman whom Spurling had murdered.
The distance, which would vary from fifteen to thirty miles, would readily admit of this, since either of the Indians would pass over it, with the greatest ease to himself, in a day, at that season of the year. After all, the separation was to be short, for we had promised to come over and dine with Herman Mordaunt on his fiftieth birth-day, which would occur within three weeks.
Mordaunt advanced a few yards, and raised one hand out of the water in sign of distress. "Pity! gentlemen," cried he; "pity and mercy! My strength is leaving me, and I am about to sink." The tone of agony in which these words were spoken awakened a feeling of compassion in the breast of Athos. "Unhappy man!" he murmured. "Good!" said D'Artagnan. "I like to see you pity him.
Whisky and soda, then?" "What you will, monsieur." "Very well. Whisky and soda, Holmes, and be quick about it." Mordaunt glanced at the clock, looked again at the photograph at his elbow, finally rose. "I want a talk with you, M. de Montville," he said, "if you feel up to it. Don't get up, please. There is no necessity."
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