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I want you to look me in the face." "Don't, Obed! Don't! Let me be. Don't!" He paid not the slightest attention. He was bending over her, his hand beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Don't, Obed!" she begged. "Thankful, you tell me. Did you think I asked you to marry me just because I pitied you. Just because I was sorry for you? Did you?" "Obed, please!"
She gave me no resistance, admitted her absence from the Thornhill house at about the time the party was ready to start for San Francisco Edwards, of course. I got nothing new here. She seemed thankful enough to go into the house when I released her. I lingered a moment to have a word with the little Japanese woman on the step. "How long you work this place?"
The reply is made that a large quantity of the most famous passages in Shakespeare are descriptive of scenery, and would not have been written but for the fact that he had no other means of conveying his ideas to the audience. If there be any truth in this, one may be very thankful for the fact which coerced him into his word-painting.
I'm thankful to him for one thing: his comin' here has waked you up, and it's goin' to make a man of you, or I miss my guess." I did not answer. "You mustn't get mad because I talk this way," he went on. "I'm old enough to be your dad, Ros Paine, and I know what I'm talkin' about. I never took much of a shine to you in the old days.
The walk did him good, and restored his physical equilibrium. He was thankful to be alive after such a narrow escape. He went upstairs with a comparatively light step, and tossed his overcoat to a very sleepy footman who had risen to receive him. He went into the card-room. Baccarat was just finishing. It was three o'clock in the morning.
Loris Drentell, the young lieutenant of the Seventh Cossack Regiment, might well be thankful to Fortuna for the gifts she had lavished upon him. The reader will remember having met the young man before, when he was but a baby in his nurse's arms at the Drentell villa at Lubny. The promise he then gave of becoming a spoiled child was fully realized.
This was the sudden death of her mother, the news of which arrived one day in a curt note written by her father to Colonel Colquhoun, no previous intimation of illness having been sent to break the shock of the announcement. I can never be thankful enough for the happy chance which brought about that last accidental meeting of Evadne with her mother.
Courageous in all things, he found himself not a little afraid of all the beautiful objects which he touched, afraid to lift the Sèvres pitcher, afraid to open the long doors of the inlaid wardrobe, timid before the dazzling mirror a reluctant guest who, for the time being, would have been thankful to escape to a carpetless floor and glad to wash in a basin of the commonest kind.
Then follow details: 'Fruitful in every good work' a many-sided fruitfulness, an encyclopædiacal beneficent activity, covering all the ground of possible excellence; and that is not all; 'increasing in the knowledge of God, a life of progressive acquaintance with Him; and that is not all: 'strengthened with all might unto all patience and long-suffering'; nor is that all, for the crown of the whole is 'giving thanks unto the Father. So, then, 'ye see your calling, brethren. A life that is 'worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called' is a life that conforms to the divine will, that is 'fruitful in all good, that is progressive in its acquaintance with God, that is strengthened for all patience and long-suffering, and that in everything is thankful to Him.
We escaped with our lives, and were thankful in the morning for so much mercy vouchsafed to us, but we could not conscientiously return thanks for a night's refreshing rest. At the first dawn of day we rolled up our beds, lighted the fire, swept out the room, let the dogs loose, and drove the rams to pasture on the margin of the river.
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