United States or Slovenia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
As he got up Laura and Strong were laughing at him; everybody was laughing; Pynsent and his partner were laughing; and Pen boiled with wrath against the pair, and could have stabbed them both on the spot. He turned away in a fury from them, and began blundering out apologies to Miss Amory.
He spent a good deal of such time as he could spare at Holwood, a property he had bought near Bromley; and occasional visits to Brighton, and to his mother's residence at Burton Pynsent, in Somersetshire, made up the greater part of his travels. II. The Regency Problem
You see the County Chronicle says, 'The celebrated Mr. Wagg has been sojourning at Baymouth let our fashionables and eccentrics look out for something from his caustic pen. If Pen can write better than this gentleman, and speak better than Mr. Pynsent, why doesn't he? Mamma, he can't make speeches to us; or distinguish himself here. He ought to go away, indeed he ought."
But one invitation, given by Sir John Pynsent, for the Sunday subsequent to his election or rather, from Saturday to Monday he thought it expedient as well as pleasant to accept. Vanebury was a very few miles distant from St. John's country-house, and when the baronet, in capital spirits over his friend's success, urged him to run over to Culverley for a day or two, he could not well refuse.
There's not a woman here worth looking at, except Mrs. George Murray. I'll talk to her after dinner. Not one of them is a patch on little Milly. I wonder how she would look, dressed up in silks and satins. Pynsent knows how to choose his wine and his cook better than his company, I fancy."
When she had finished, she disappeared behind the curtains as rapidly as she had emerged from the shadows of the dimly-lighted inner room; and in the pause that followed, the opening and shutting of a door was heard. "Who is she?" said Sydney to his neighbor. "Oh, Miss Pynsent, of course," said Mrs. Murray. "Delightful, isn't she?"
Here he found others just as eager to predict the downfall of the Government as Sir John Pynsent had been; but he was not in the mood to listen to a number of young men all of the same mind, all of-doubtful intellectual calibre, and all sure to say what he had heard a dozen times already. So he passed on to the billiard-room, and finding that a pool was just beginning, took a ball and played.
Pynsent and Pen had been at Oxbridge together, where the latter, during his heyday of good fortune and fashion, had been the superior of the young patrician, and perhaps rather supercilious towards him.
He had said something like this to Sir John Pynsent, not many days before his marriage, and Sir John, who had taken Sydney's measure to a nicety, had resolved that his promising brother-in-law should be converted at the earliest possible opportunity into a faithful follower and henchman of Lord Montagu Plumley.
At least, I don't mean the pianiste: I mean the young lady who played the violin last night." "Yes, Nan Pynsent, Sir John's half-sister. The heiress and some people say the beauty of the county. Why do you look so stupefied, Mr. Campion?" "I did not know her, that was all. I thought who, then, is the lady who played the piano?" "Mary Pynsent, a cousin.
Word Of The Day