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I suppose it must have been from Harry Warrington, whose heart was overflowing with generosity as his purse with guineas, that the chaplain procured a small stock of ready coin, with which he was presently enabled to appear at the card-table. Our young gentleman welcomed Mr. Sampson to his coin, as to all the rest of the good things which he had gathered about him.
Dempster knew, the boys' Scotch tutor, who corrected the proofs of the oration, which was printed, by desire of his Excellency and many persons of honour, at Mr. Franklin's press in Philadelphia. No such sumptuous funeral had ever been seen in the country as that which Madam Esmond Warrington ordained for her father, who would have been the first to smile at that pompous grief.
"Only I wonder that my nephew Henry concealed the circumstance until now," she adds, with a sidelong glance at both young gentlemen. "He knew it no more than your ladyship," says Mr. Warrington. The young ladies looked at each other with downcast eyes. "Indeed, sir! a most singular circumstance," says mamma, with another curtsey. "We had heard of it, sir; and Mr.
The region to his right, over which he had previously passed, was now entirely covered with water from the overflowing of the Chad, which had submerged several villages. He met with no unusual adventures during his long, tedious journey northward across the desert. At Mourzouk he had the pleasure of meeting Mr Frederick Warrington.
"Amen," groaned out Warrington, with his head in his hands. "She is right," he murmured to himself. "She can't do any wrong, I think that girl." Indeed, she looked and smiled like an angel. Many a day after he saw that smile saw her radiant face as she looked up at Pen saw her putting back her curls, blushing and smiling, and still looking fondly towards him.
But I can promise you that even if all were told the truth, I mean your faith in Warrington would be justified." He leaned over. "Trust me," he said simply. As she placed her small hand in Garrick's, she looked up into his face, and with suppressed emotion, answered, "Thank you I I will." Then, with a quick gathering of her skirts, she turned and almost fled from the room.
He does or says something which provokes your scorn. You speak to him naturally, and he fancies still that you are sneering at him. You have indifference towards him, but he hates you, and hates you the worse because you don't care. "Gumbo, a chair to Mr. Draper!" says Mr. Warrington, folding his brocaded dressing-gown round his legs as he sits on the dingy bed.
Across these pictures she had scrawled numerous signatures, "Kate" and "Kit" and "Kitty" and "Katherine Challoner," with here and there a phrase in French and Italian. "You wouldn't return those under any circumstances?" "No, indeed! That's all I'll have. And besides, you wouldn't ask me to give them up?" Her answer remained unspoken. The valet appeared deferentially. "Well?" said Warrington.
The struggle was past, his royalties were making him rich. And here he was this night, drinking the cup of bitterness, of unhappiness, the astringent draft of things that might and should have been. The coveted grape was sour, the desired apple was withered. Those who traverse the road with Folly as boon companion find only emptiness. And so it was with Warrington.
But Laura did not appear in the ball-room, except once or twice, when Pen vouchsafed to walk with her; and as for Warrington that rough diamond had not had the polish of a dancing master, and he did not know how to waltz though he would have liked to learn, if he could have had such a partner as Laura.
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