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Had a viper raised its head in M. Wilkie's path he would not have recoiled more quickly. "Never!" he exclaimed. "Ah, no! What do you take me for?" This repugnance was sincere; there could be no doubt of that, and it seemed to give Madame d'Argeles a ray of hope. "I have misjudged him," she thought. "Poor Wilkie! Evil advice has led him astray; but he is not bad at heart.
With them was a bearded man who, as soon as she appeared, exclaimed: "You are Mademoiselle Marguerite, are you not? I arrest you in the name of the law. There is my warrant." And without more ado he led her away. Money, which nowadays has taken the place of the good fairies of former times, had gratified M. Wilkie's every longing in a single night.
It would assure my position at once. Certainly something must have happened!" This last remark was by no means a proof of any remarkable perspicuity on M. Wilkie's part.
It is as extravagant as Ariosto, and as dull as Wilkie's Epigoniad. The last six books, which Virgil had not fully corrected, pleased me better than the first six. I like him best on Italian ground. I like his localities; his national enthusiasm; his frequent allusions to his country, its history, its antiquities, and its greatness.
This remark was not lost upon Chupin, and at seven o'clock the next morning he mounted guard at M. de Coralth's door. All through the day he followed the viscount about, first to the Marquis de Valorsay's, then to the office of a business agent, then to M. Wilkie's, then, in the afternoon, to Baroness Trigault's, and finally, in the evening, to the house of Madame d'Argeles.
Had he not got in his pocket M. Wilkie's signature insuring him upward of half a million? Standing near one of the windows in the main reception-room, between the Marquis de Valorsay and M. Wilkie, the brilliant viscount was gayly chatting with them, when a footman, in a voice loud enough to interrupt all conversation, suddenly announced: "M. Maumejan!"
Young Wilkie's lamentations were long and loud; but they did not prevent M. Patterson for that was the gentleman's name from taking him to the college of Louis-the-Great, where he was entered as a boarder. As he did not study, and as he was only endowed with a small amount of intelligence, he learned scarcely anything during the years he remained there.
Leicester's School, will be remembered as often and prized as highly as Wilkie's and Glover's Epics and Lord Bolingbroke's Philosophies compared with Robinson Crusoe. I have set up the book from the second edition, 1809, because the Lambs' final text is probably to be found there.
In this case, however, the latter caution was altogether unnecessary, what Mrs. Johnson lacked in experience she more than made up for in care and solicitude, and, as every direction of the physician was carried out to the letter, the little fellow began perceptibly to mend before the telegram came announcing Mr. Wilkie's arrival in Quebec. On the receipt of the missive Mrs.
The baron no longer doubted the correctness of his conjectures, and his disquietude increased. Quickly, and as if he had been in his own house, he hastened to the door of the little sitting-room and listened. At that moment rage was imparting a truly frightful intonation to M. Wilkie's voice. The baron really felt alarmed.
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