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They fed him a little later on some chicken-feed that they found in Sidney's quiet barn, a pail of buttermilk out of the dairy, and a quantity of onions from a shelf in the back-kitchen. 'Seed-onions, most likely, said Connie. 'You'll hear about this. 'What does it matter? They ought to have been gilded. We must buy him. 'And keep him as long as he lives, she agreed.
The thought struck on my heart like a hammer-stroke that she would stop at nothing to save Sidney's reputation. For the first time, I was afraid for myself. I was afraid she would be too strong for me. She would push me along the corridor and through the open door into her room. If I screamed she would tell the servants I had gone mad. She would get the coat away from me.
The clothing merchant and the barber furnish the alibi." An expression of consternation was in George Lerton's face, and Jim Farland was quick to notice it. "Of course, I am glad for Sidney's sake," Lerton said. "But I had really believed that he had killed Shepley. It caused me a bit of trouble, too." "How do you mean?" Farland asked. "Shepley was a sort of client of mine," Lerton said.
Clarice went out, called a hansom and drove home. When she arrived there she ordered tea to be brought to the drawing-room and sat down and again read the article in the Meteor. When the tea was brought, she ordered it to be taken into Sidney's study. She walked restlessly about that room, as though she was trying to habituate herself to it.
A hateful and terrible presence overshadowed her; it was as though she had but to put forth her hand to touch a coffin-lid. She no longer saw the forms about her, scarce felt the pressure of Sidney's hand, knew not, so brave a lady was she, so fixed her habit of the court, that she smiled upon the group she was leaving and swept them a formal curtsy.
"True," said Philip. "And I have only to thank you for your kindness, and return to town." "But stay with us this day do let me feel that we are friends. I assure you poor Sidney's fate has been a load on my mind ever since he left. You shall have the bed he slept in, and over which your mother bent when she left him and me for the last time."
And that day all his stoicism went down before Sidney's letter. Its very frankness and affection hurt not that he did not want her affection; but he craved so much more. He threw himself face down on the bed, with the paper crushed in his hand. Sidney's letter was not the only one he received that day.
And we ourselves remember his using the French word gloriole rather ostentatiously; that is, when no particular emphasis attached to the case. But every man has his foibles; and few, perhaps, are less conspicuously annoying than this of Lord Hutchinson's. Sir Sidney's crimes were less distinctly revealed to our mind.
Dyke would not take with her a stick of furniture nor a single ornament. It would only serve to remind her of a vanished happiness. She packed a few clothes of her own and Sidney's in a little trunk, Hilma helping her, and Annixter stowed the trunk under the carry-all's back seat. Mrs. Dyke turned the key in the door of the house and Annixter helped her to her seat beside his wife.
I have seen many letters, in which the writers informed him that they "were very sensible of the good treatment which the French experienced when they fell into his hands." Let any one examine Sir Sidney's conduct before the capitulation of El- Arish, and after its rupture, and then they can judge of his character. Helena, in speaking of the siege of Acre, said, Sidney Smith is a brave officer.
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