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Updated: June 5, 2025
At length she examined them and found the sonnets. They had no heading, but at the foot of each was written the date of composition. She read them. Adela's study of poetry had not gone beyond a school-book of selections, with the works of Mrs.
Is there anything at all in the book?" "I don't know," said Harry Thornhill, who had changed quickly, and was now regaling himself with a little of Miss Burgoyne's lemonade, with which the prima-donna was so kind as to keep him supplied. "Well, now, I shall be on the stage some time; what do you say to looking over Lady Adela's novel?" "All right."
Adela's position would not suffer the risk of ever so slight a difference between herself and her husband. She had come to fear him, and now there was growing in her a yet graver fear of herself. The condition of her health favoured remissness and postponement. An hour of mental agitation left her with headache and a sense of bodily feebleness.
The door was suddenly unlocked. "I sent no message," said Adela, as they confronted each other on the threshold. In the silence of utter bewilderment they went together into the summer-house. At Adela's request, Cosway repeated the message that he had received, and described the woman who had delivered it. The description applied to no person known to Miss Restall. "Mrs.
There were no signs of tears on Adela's face; to Emma she seemed cold, though so grave and gentle. Adela gazed for a while at the dead man. She, too, felt as though it were all a dream. The spectacle of Emma's passionate grief had kept her emotion within her heart, perhaps had weakened it. 'You have yourself been hurt, she said, turning again to the other. Emma only shook her head.
When Lionel went down early next morning, he found Lady Adela's father in sole possession; and was not long in discovering that the old earl was in a towering rage. "Good-morning!" said this tall, pale, stooping-shouldered old gentleman, whose quite hairless face was surmounted by a brown wig. "Well, what do you think of last night's performance? What do you think of it?
In Adela's own mind, that course, and that alone, would have been the right one. She looked on such unions as being literally for better or for worse; and failing to reach the better, she would have done her best, with God's assistance, to bear the worst. But then Adela Gauntlet could never have placed herself in the position which Lady Harcourt now filled.
"I have the usual retinue, possibly," said Violetta. "Dear countess, I could be one of them myself!" Adela burst out with tentative boldness. "Then, kiss me." And behold, they interchanged that unsweet feminine performance. Adela's lips were unlocked by it. "How many would envy me, dear Countess d'Isorella!"
I love the common with all my heart, but I hate the common-place; and, foolish old bachelor that I am, the common-place in a woman troubles me, annoys me, makes me miserable. Well, it was something of the common-place in Adela's expression that had troubled me.
The police court was close by, and it suited his purpose; but he mixed very little with his fellow-guests and was generally regarded as unapproachable a mere judicial machine with whom very few troubled to make acquaintance. Fletcher Hill in the rôle of a squire of dames was a situation that vastly tickled Adela's sense of humour. As she told Jack, it was going to be the funniest joke of her life.
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