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The "Star and Garter" has figured in the romances of some of our greatest novelists. One comes across it in Meredith and Thackeray, and it finds its way into numerous memoirs, nearly always with some comment upon its unique beauty of situation, a beauty that was never more real than at this moment when the spring foliage is just beginning to peep.
He only told it me this evening; just an hour or two before he died. Well, we all have our little romances, as you are pleased to call them!" "Yes, yes, all of us. Even I, unpretentious, plain Elizabeth Fairleigh, but no matter." I mind me, reader, that I promised not to talk of my own experiences.
Her feet and legs were brown and quite invulnerable to stones or brambles. Her father did not realize that she needed clothes; her aunt was too much sunk in shadows to notice the child's appearance. And, reading her legends and romances, it was natural that Marcella should live them and dress them.
"Stories!" exclaimed Cynthia, drawing away her hands. "Romances," said Miss Duncan "real romances. Sometimes I think I'm going to be a novelist, because I'm always weaving stories about people that I see people who interest me, I mean. And you look as if you might be the heroine of a wonderful romance." Cynthia's breath was now quite taken away.
"I think that was all," answered Mrs. Killenhall. "He merely remarked that it was an odd case, and said no more." "What made him mention it?" asked Mr. Pawle. "Oh, we'd been talking about romances of the peerage," replied Mrs. Killenhall. "I had told him of several." "You're well up in the peerage, ma'am?" suggested the old lawyer. "I know my Burke and my Debrett pretty thoroughly," said Mrs.
Now begins the first chapter of the last of the D'Artagnan Romances, The Vicomte de Bragelonne. Enjoy! John Bursey, May, 2000
The auditor paid much attention to these romances and sometimes interrupted them by brief remarks upon the incidents, displaying shrewdness above his years, mingled with a moral obliquity which grated very harshly against Ilbrahim's instinctive rectitude.
The men who wrote, and the men who read these romances, the first springs of our modern fiction, were influenced by two dominant ideas: "One religious, which had fashioned the gigantic cathedrals, and swept the masses from their native soil to hurl them upon the Holy Land; the other secular, which had built feudal fortresses, and set the man of courage erect and armed within his own domain."
"This is one of the strongest as well as most original romances of the year.... The plot is extraordinary.... The close of the story is powerful and natural.... A masterpiece of restrained and legitimate dramatic fiction."
While thus buried in thought I tried to invent some expedient that would lead to the truth. I recalled one of Diderot's romances in which a woman, jealous of her lover, resorted to a novel plan, for the purpose of clearing away her doubts. She told him that she no longer loved him and that she wished to leave him.
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