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"With it all, Edgar, she does not love you; she loved Miles; she loves Crown Anstey, and not you. Forget her, dear; give her up. I love you. She is cold and formal and prudish; she is not capable of loving you as I do. She loves your fortune, not you, and I oh, I would die if you bid me! Give her up, Edgar, and love me!"
Rose asked us to have some tea, we were taken into the dining-room, where these festal delicacies were laid out." "And then?" "Well, it would have been all right Mrs. Anstey is a dear, and Olive of course is a ripper and we'd have had a very jolly little party, but unfortunately in the middle of it who should arrive but Lady Martin and that terrible daughter of hers." "Lady Martin of soap fame?"
The girls have such a good time and they meet heaps of young men! Not like us poor things who hardly ever see one!" Her evident sincerity relieved the situation. Her sister might murmur "Oh, Toby!" under her breath, and Lady Martin might sneer, but Mrs. Anstey patted the speaker's arm with a very kindly smile. "Poor little Cynthia!
After a time I became calmer and listened while he told me of the death of the stately Sir Barnard and his eldest son. They had gone away together on a trip to Italy. Miles Trevelyan was very fond of pictures, and his father had given him permission to buy what he pleased for the great picture gallery at Crown Anstey. They went together to Florence, where a fearful epidemic was raging.
"The professor is here, your Worship," replied Anstey, "and is prepared to swear to having obtained over one grain of morphia from the contents of the stomach; and as this, which is in itself a poisonous dose, is only the unabsorbed residue of what was actually swallowed, the total quantity taken must have been very large indeed." "Thank you," said the magistrate. "And now, Dr.
Anstey little thought as he looked at her how often and often through all his life he would with his mind's eye see her so again! As he was going through the door she called a laughing reproach to him. "Your abominable dog spoilt my husband's sport yesterday, Mr Anstey. Why do you keep such a wretch?" "Which dog?" he asked, pulling up, smiling at her. "Your horrid little white dog."
Now, in that room I hope to find evidence which will prove that Dodge is not fit to be a member the corps of United States Military Academy cadets. Will you come with me and look for the proof?" "I suhtinly will, suh," replied the Virginian promptly. "If Anstey will go on a job like that," muttered Dunstan, "then I guess it's a proper undertaking for gentlemen."
If it is not quite so conspicuous as a fashionable resort as it was in the days of Beau Nash or of Christopher Anstey, it has never lost its popularity. Chesterfield writes in 1764, "The number of people in this place is infinite," and at the present time the annual influx of visitors is said to vary from ten to fourteen thousand.
Shakespeare is between Sardou and Shaw. Euripides and Clyde Fitch! Upton Sinclair and Sophocles! Aeschylus and F. Anstey! D'Annunzio and Richard Harding Davis! Augustus Thomas and Tolstoi! More alphabetical humor.
He was my unconscious rival; his little life stood between me and all I valued most, yet I knelt and prayed God, as I had never prayed before, that He would spare him. I would have given Crown Anstey twice over for that life; but it was not to be. "Do not disturb him with cries," said the doctor to his mother; "he has not long to live."
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