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Updated: May 14, 2025
It happened, however, that a gale of wind just then had inflicted severe injury upon Arbuthnot's squadron, three of which had gone to sea from Gardiner's Bay upon a report that three French ships of the line had left Newport to meet an expected convoy. One seventy-four, the Bedford, was wholly dismasted; another, the Culloden, drove ashore on Long Island and was wrecked.
Arbuthnot's remark and raised forefinger, and said with marked coldness at least, she tried to make it sound marked that she supposed they would be going to breakfast, and that she had had hers; but it was her fate that however coldly she sent forth her words they came out sounding quite warm and agreeable.
Mr Arbuthnot's infant son, I should state, had been consigned immediately after its birth to the care of Mrs Danby, who had herself been confined, also with a boy, about a fortnight previously. Scarlatina being prevalent in the neighbourhood, Mrs Danby was hurried away with the two children to a place near Bath, almost before she was able to bear the journey.
Andrew Melville, so James Melville says, found fault with the style. Buchanan replied that he could do no more for thinking of another thing, which was to die. They then went to Arbuthnot's printing-house, and inspected the history, as far as that terrible passage concerning Rizzio's burial, where Mary is represented as "laying the miscreant almost in the arms of Maud de Valois, the late queen."
"Don't worry, a cannon wouldn't wake him!" said Julia, in reference to Mrs. Arbuthnot's lowered voice, and the solicitous look the wife had given a great opened beach umbrella three feet away, under which Dr. Arbuthnot slumbered on the warm sands. "He's forty fathoms deep.
Martyn goes back in a few weeks; Arbuthnot's returned already; Ellis and Clay are putting the last touches to a new feeder-line the Government's built as relief-work. Morten's dead he was a Bengal man, though; you wouldn't know him. 'Pon my word, you and Will Miss Martyn seem to have come through it as well as anybody." "Oh, how is she, by-the-way"." The voice went up and down as he spoke.
Bubbling over with fun, he would pretend to make a great mystery as to the Kama Shastra Society at Benares, where he declared the Nights were being printed. A Visit to Mr. Arbuthnot's. Of all the visits to be made during this holiday Burton had looked forward to none with so much pleasure as those to Mr. Arbuthnot, or "Bunny," as he called him, and Mr. Payne. Mr.
"He has more wit than we all have," was Swift's declaration, "and his humanity is equal to his wit." There are not many satirists known to men during all literary history of whom quite so much could be said with any faintest color of a regard for truth. Swift was too warm in his friendly panegyric on Arbuthnot's humor, but he did not too highly estimate Arbuthnot's humanity.
It was only a little after midnight that night when Julie, lying wakeful in the sultry summer darkness, was startled by a person in her room. "It's Emma, Miss Ives," said Mrs. Arbuthnot's maid, stumbling about, "Mrs. Arbuthnot wants you." "She's ill!" Julie felt rather than said the words, instantly alert and alarmed, and reaching for her wrapper and slippers. "No, ma'am.
He must go to Vichy, where he had to wind up certain affairs of Les Petit Patou. To-morrow he would start for Paris and await Arbuthnot's reply. "And possibly you'll see Lady Auriol," I hazarded, this being the first time her name was mentioned. His brow clouded and he shook his head sadly. "I think not," said he. And, as I was about to protest, he checked me with a gesture.
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