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The owner of that sparkling hand soon heard a soft rustle of silk come toward the door; the very rustle, somehow, was eloquent, and betrayed love and timidity, and something innocent yet subtle. The jeweled hand went in again directly. MEANTIME Mr. Oldfield began to tell the admiral who he was, and that he was come to remove a false impression about a client of his, Sir Charles Bassett.
He selected a high-backed cane-seat chair from those around the writing table, and as he had already twice said, "Good morning, Mrs. Chester," and "I am very glad to meet you" the last being a wicked perversion of his real emotions he waited for the party of the second part to open the business of the meeting. "We have come to you and hope you will pardon us for troubling you, Mr. Oldfield "
Wheeler excused him on the ground that his wife was seriously ill through the fright. Bassett's servants were called, and swore to the damage and to the men, all but one. He got off. Then Oldfield made a dry speech; and a tradesman he had prepared offered bail. The magistrates were consulting, when in burst Mr.
But first he posted Frank's letter, with one of his own, in which he stated where he had lodged in Liverpool, that so his master's parents might have every opportunity of endeavouring to trace their unhappy son. His own letter was as follows: "MADAM, Mr Frank Oldfield, your son, has bid me send you the letter from him which comes with this. Mr Frank is my master.
So, in the bitterness of revolt, Nicholas Oldfield marched on, and stepped silently into the little schoolhouse, to meet his fellows. They were standing about in groups, each laying down the law according to his kind. The doors were wide open, and Nicholas felt as if he had brought in with him the sounds of coming night.
Your hopeless son, FRANK OLDFIELD." Three days after Jacob Poole had posted his letter and its enclosure, a cab drove up to Mrs Jones's door. In it were Sir Thomas and Lady Oldfield. No one who saw them could doubt of the bitter sorrow that had stamped its mark upon their noble features. "Are you Mrs Jones, my poor poor son's landlady?" asked Lady Oldfield, when they were seated in the parlour.
I'm heartily glad of it; that is, supposing you're the same lad as when you sailed with me before. I mean, as stanch an abstainer." "Ay, that he is," said Frank warmly. "And you too, Mr Oldfield?" "Well, I am at present," replied the other, colouring; "and I hope to continue so." "Ah, then, I suppose you've never signed the pledge." "No; more's the pity."
"I want to," answered Oldfield, promptly. "But will you hear me without becoming angry?" "Certainly! I will be thankful for your advice, Mr. Oldfield." The man had a certain hardness in his own look now. "Let us sit down by this window. There, you look comfortable. Now, let's see oh, yes, I remember where I wanted to begin. Ned is one of those fellows who find Sunday a bad day and holidays.
Oldfield was, indeed, a sure way to save himself; which I could not help taking notice of, by saying it was making but an ill compliment to the company to suppose there was but one man in it fit to play an ordinary part with her. "Here Mrs.
But what counted all the glamour of public life compared to the possession of Nance Oldfield and an honoured seat at the festive board of the Kit-Cat Club? Love and conviviality, youth and wit, carried the day, and through the influence of these seductive companions handsome Arthur failed to achieve greatness as a statesman.
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