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Pynsent's manner was so frank and cordial, that Pen hoped Pynsent might have forgotten his little fanfaronnade, and any other braggadocio speeches or actions which he might have made.
Tom Willoughby was, and always would be, a light weight in the political arena, but he was very useful when put to work that he could do. He was the spoiled child of Sir John Pynsent, and was fast earning a character as the chartered libertine of the House of Commons, where his unfailing good humor made him friends on both sides.
"Pendennis don't preserve, then?" continued Mr. Pynsent. "You should come and see him," the girl said, laughing, and greatly amused at the notion that her Pen was a great county gentleman, and perhaps had given himself out to be such. "Indeed, I quite long to renew our acquaintance," Mr.
He thought to himself that he should not care to go unless he was sure that Miss Pynsent meant to accept him. Perhaps Sir John attributed his hesitation to its real cause, for he said, more heartily than ever. "We all want you, you know. Nan is dying to talk over your constituents with you.
He was the biggest man in Yorkshire, and squeezed my nose out of sight a rare jovial companion, was the Parson of Pynsent, and many is the joke we have had about the weight of his foot. Ah! we have no fun now no fighting, no grinning through a horse-collar, no roasting before a fire, no singing" "Yes," said Reginald, "we have Phil Lorimer." "Let him come let us hear him," said some of the party.
Pen went downstairs, his heart reproaching him for his absurd behaviour to Laura, whose gentle and imploring looks followed and rebuked him; and he was scarcely out of the ballroom door but he longed to turn back and ask her pardon. But he remembered that he had left her with that confounded Pynsent. He could not apologise before him.
Whatever may have been the intention of Nature when she produced Sir John Pynsent, there was no doubt as to his own conception of the part which he was fitted to play in the world. He considered himself, and indeed he was, above all things, a manipulator of men.
I am sure Pen will never like him. Mr. Pynsent was in the meanwhile engaged with Miss Laura. He named some of the houses in the neighbourhood whither he was going, and hoped very much that he should see Miss Bell at some of them. He hoped that her aunt would give her a season in London.
Presently she began to play, and Sydney, little as was his technical knowledge of the art, acknowledged at once that he had been mistaken, and that Miss Pynsent, in spite of being an heiress, played remarkably well. But the notes were apparently those of an accompaniment only was she going to sing?
He had not, perhaps, definitely said anything that he could regret; but he was sorry for the whole tone of his conversation. Would Miss Pynsent repeat his observations, he wondered, to her sister-in-law? Sydney did not often put himself in a false position, but he felt that his tact had failed him now.
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