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Mr. Hotchkiss has etched in burning words a story of Yankee bravery, and true love that thrills from beginning to end, with the spirit of the Revolution. The heart beats quickly, and we feel ourselves taking a part in the exciting scenes described. His whole story is so absorbing that you will sit up far into the night to finish it. As a love romance it is charming.
I suppose he was a favorite of yours?" "Of mine? No, no; a young woman's favorite, sir, before I was born; and a very remarkable dog, too. The vital principle in that poodle, Mr. Kerby, must have been singularly intensified. He lived to a fabulous old age, and he was clever enough to play an important part of his own in what you English call a Romance of Real Life!
This meeting at the play tonight was the sort of anti-climax that is almost invariable in a London romance. How he looked forward to it! For after Vincy came in only a few banalities had been said. He was to see her now for the last time the first time since he had given himself away to her.
As in the interminable tomes of Scudéry, love and honor supplied the place of life and manners in the tales of her female successors, and though in some respects their stories were nearer the standard of real conduct, new novel on the whole was but old romance writ small.
But the Colonel, who had suddenly grown very red, would not or could not continue his comparison. He floundered, drew out his snuff-box and restored it to his pocket, and finally was taken pity on by Unity, who with dancing eyes reëntered the conversation, and asked if Mr. Rand had read The Romance of the Forest.
Angela blushed at those words, "rapture and romance," knowing how little there had been of either in her thoughts, or in Denzil's sober courtship. Romance! Alas! there had been but one romance in her life, and that a guilty one, which she must ever remember with remorse. "Come now, confess you have not a gown ordered." "I have gowns enough and to spare.
She thinks it a subject fit only for the fevered imagination of the poet, or for tales of fiction and romance. With the realities of life it has no concern. In this plain, matter-of-fact, working-day world, there is no room, she thinks, for this creature of the brain. Therefore does she determine to fortify herself against its approaches.
My record is a blank for some days after this. In the mean time I have contrived to make out the person and the story of our young lady, who, according to appearances, ought to furnish us a heroine for a boarding-house romance before a year is out. It is very curious that she should prove connected with a person many of us have heard of.
We were deep in a reverie, conjuring up a romance of which she was the heroine, when a little lady, habited in gray, whose age might average threescore, unceremoniously seated herself beside us, and immediately commenced a conversation, by asking if we were admiring pretty Annie Mortimer following the direction of our looks.
A tragic look grew in his handsome face; his face that was a mirror of all passing emotions; his face that had been able to express love and romance, devotion and tenderness, to wile a bird from off a tree or love from the heart of any woman.
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