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Updated: June 13, 2025
Elizabeth watched them as they walked toward the house, and a warmth came into her own face in her pleasure. "Dear Katie," she said to herself, "she is sure to be so happy." The young girl's hand lay on Archdale's arm, and she was looking up at him with a smile full of joyousness.
They had drunk sparingly, but, just returned from their sail, each was filled with Katie Archdale's beauty, and each had spoken out his purpose plainly, Waldo with an assurance that, if it savored a little of conceit, was full of manliness, the other with a half-smothered fierceness of passion that argued danger to every obstacle in its way.
It was August; we were on the river in a dead calm, and at Mistress Archdale's suggestion had been telling stories for amusement.
Edmonson looked very handsome standing beside the old picture that he so much resembled. "That portrait was Colonel Archdale's grandfather, his mother's father, Mr. Edmonson," explained Elizabeth, perceiving that her companion's ideas were somewhat mixed. And then Mrs.
The other drew back precipitately a few steps. Then he stopped and stood looking at her, the questions that he had meant to put so boldly struggling with something not unlike fear. For Elizabeth's look and tone were terrible. She was an embodied indignation. At the moment he believed her Archdale's wife.
Archdale's head was bent and the watcher could not see his eyes, but his attitude of devotion, his smile, and Katie's face told the story. By CHARLES COWLEY, LL.D. Twice within two years representatives of the highest courts of Massachusetts have published in the North American Review, panegyrics of jurics and jury trials.
Coxeter's right hand gripped firmly Mrs. Archdale's arm. She was pressing closely to his side, shrinking back from the rough crowd surging about them, and he was filled with a fierce protective tenderness which left no room in his mind for any thought of self.
Then he turned and stood looking after it, the flush that had come suddenly to his face fading away as his eyes followed Katie Archdale's figure until it was lost to sight. He could see her clinging to her father's arm; he seemed to see her face before him for days, her face pale and sad, and so lovely. Neither had spoken. Mr. Archdale had not waited; what had they to say?
By Frances C. Sparhawk, Author of "A Lazy Man's Work." It was two weeks after the scene at Colonel Archdale's dinner-party. There was quite a knot of people in Madam Pepperell's drawing-room. All the household at Seascape had come on the way home from a drive to pay a morning visit here, and found the in-door coolness refreshing. Colonel Archdale, who had joined his son, was there also. Mr.
"Thank you," said Coxeter very seriously, "I'm much obliged to you for telling me this. I can see the sense of what you say." "You know, in spite of her quiet manner, Mrs. Archdale's a nervous, sensitive woman" the doctor was looking narrowly at Coxeter as he spoke. "She was perfectly calm and and very brave at the time " "That means nothing!
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