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"Sir, we thank you, but we should be on our way," said Ambrose, incited by Stephen's impatient gestures. "Tut, tut. Fair and softly, my son, or more haste may be worse speed. Methought ye had somewhat to show me."
No: another voice shouted occasional replies; and this interlocutor seemed to be on the other side of the hedge. The voice, though soft in quality, was not Stephen's. The second speaker must have been in the long-neglected garden of an old manor-house hard by, which, together with a small estate attached, had lately been purchased by a person named Troyton, whom Elfride had never seen.
The joyous "vivats" then I shout; Watchword and battle-cry shall be: Austria, for thee! The landscape far and near I know; The birds and brooks and forests fair Send me their greetings on the air; The Danube sparkles down below; St. Stephen's spire far in the blue Seems waving me a welcome too. Warm to its core my heart shall be, Austria, for thee!
Leslie Stephen's brilliant studies, in the recent edition de luxe and the Cornhill Magazine, are now in every one's hands, it is perhaps no more than a wise discretion which has prompted me to confine my attention more strictly to the purely biographical side of the subject. In this task I have made use of the following authorities:
Three cheers for John Anthony Collins! A thin voice from the verge of the ring replied: Pip! pip! Moynihan murmured beside Stephen's ear: And what about John Anthony's poor little sister: Lottie Collins lost her drawers; Won't you kindly lend her yours? Stephen laughed and Moynihan, pleased with the result, murmured again: We'll have five bob each way on John Anthony Collins.
Ailsa was very animated; she told him about Stephen's enlistment, asked scores of questions about military life, the chances in battle, the proportion of those who went through war unscathed. And at length Colonel Arran arose to take his departure; and she had not told what was hammering for utterance in every heart beat; she did not know how to tell, what to ask.
Go to Aldhelm and his schools; you have most strange miracles. Try to retire into the country, you do but meet with hermits. No; miracles, monkery, Popery, are too much for you, if you have any stomach.... The life P. looked at, St. Stephen's, was taken as having hardly, if at all, any miracle in it. If he thinks it will give offence, doubtless the others will still more.
She gave up literature entirely, and once more that old imperative question, of what use was she to be in the world, faced her. She might have found opportunities in plenty in St. Stephen's Church, but the only young ladies she knew in the congregation belonged to the select Guild of which Miss Kendall was a member, and since her encounter with that lady Elizabeth had wisely avoided her.
In fact, though the boys were nearly of a size, George somewhat the biggest, Stephen's country activity, and perhaps the higher spirit of his gentle blood, generally gave him the advantage, and on this occasion he soon reduced Bates to roar for mercy. "Thou must purchase it!" said Stephen. "Thy bag of nuts, in return for the berries thou hast wasted!"
He replied, after reflection, that the news would break his father's heart. The arrangement he had made must be ostensibly carried out. Stephen must come to the elder Stent's house and meet the daughter on apparently cordial terms. Young Stent's friendship was at an end; but Stephen felt bound to adopt the prescribed plan. Meanwhile Stephen's finances were at a low ebb.
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