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It was Lucy Upton, grown much taller now, as youth develops rapidly on the border, a creature nourished into physical perfection first by the good blood that was in her, then developed in the open air, and by work, neither too little nor too much. She reached the spring, and setting the pail by its side looked down at the cool, gushing stream.
She had been trying to drive; she had driven the car at snail's pace the length of the drive leading from Upton House, and tried to turn out of the open carriage gate into the road. "If you hadn't been here we should have gone into the wall, shouldn't we?" she demanded. Kettering laughed. "I'm very much afraid we should," he said. "But that's nothing.
He wondered if all the naughty boys interviewed by the rector had been treated to the same fare, and he began to think an invitation to Sunday tea at the rectory highly desirable. 'And now, said Mr. Upton, towards the end of the meal, 'I want some more talk with you. Your father was a brave soldier; he died in saving the colours. You want to grow up like him, do you not?
"And push 'em along prod 'em slightly when they don't seem to get started, eh?" insinuated Upton. "Well, yes sometimes." "And what else does a novelist do? He picks out two people, brings them together, and pushes them along through as many chapters as he needs for his book," said Henry. "That's all.
Her father is, I hear, some sort of learned man; money; no land. No house either, I believe. People who spend half their time on the Continent. They are now for a year at Upton Park. The very girl to settle down and entertain when she does think of settling. Eighteen, perfect manners; you need not ask if a beauty. Sir Willoughby will have his dues.
Wherefore, my love, I am through; and hereafter if you are going to make matches for my friends and need outside help, get a hired man to help you. I'm did. If I were you I'd let 'em go their own way, and if their lives are spoiled, why, your conscience is clear either way." But Mrs. Upton had no sympathy with any such view as that.
"They are too well sheltered there," replied Ross, "while we would not be if we should try to answer them. Our side would get killed while they wouldn't be hurt and we can't spare the men." "But we must find a way out! We must get rid of them somehow!" exclaimed Mr. Ware. "That's true," said Upton, and as he spoke they heard a bullet thud against the wall of the house.
Upton,” said Westby in a tone of distress, “don’t, please don’t, confuse argument with impartial inquiry; nothing is more distasteful to me than argument. I merely ask for investigation; I court it in your own interest as well as mine.” Irving grew rigid. His head was throbbing painfully; the continued snickering all round him and Westby’s increasing confidence and fluency grated on his nerves.
Upton, the younger brother of the boys’ father, who had been the village clergyman, shared his brother’s tastes; he read good books, he would travel to hear a celebrated man speak, he had ideas which were not bounded by his farm. He had encouraged Irving as well as Lawrence to seek a university education.
Of course Imogen Upton is pretty remarkably pretty though I've always thought her nose too small; and she is certainly clever; but why should she be called wonderful?" "I think it is her goodness, Rose," said Mary, with an air of gentle willingness to explain. "It's her radiant goodness.
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