Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 2, 2025
"William Foster" was held up to execration so universal that his book could hardly be printed in sufficient quantities to satisfy the demands of a public frantically eager to be harmed. In her sick-room Mrs. Ardagh, now not far from death, yet still religiously interested in the well-being of the world she was leaving, heard the echoes of the journalistic cries.
Journeying along leisurely, and being inclined to enjoy such diversion as a guinea, that had been given him for pocket-money, would afford him on the road, he was overtaken by night at a small town called Ardagh. Here, inquiring for the best house in the place, he was directed to a gentleman's habitation that literally answered that description.
They closed the ghastly eyes of the corpse, and leaving it to the care of those who seem to consider it a privilege of their age and sex to gloat over the revolting spectacle of death in all its stages, they returned to Lady Ardagh, now a widow. The party assembled at the castle, but the atmosphere was tainted with death. Grief there was not much, but awe and panic were expressed in every face.
Ardagh put her handkerchief to her eyes. "William Foster," she answered. Catherine felt cold and numb. "William Foster I don't understand," she said slowly. Mrs. Ardagh rolled and unrolled her handkerchief with trembling fingers. "She got hold of that book that black, wicked book," she said, and there was a sort of fury in her voice. "It upset her faith. It tarnished her moral sense.
Ardagh's desire might accomplish its fulfilment. Only Berrand was undismayed. There was a devil of mischief in him. His eyes of a toad gleamed as he said, turning to Mrs. Ardagh, "I happen to know that 'William Foster' is writing another book at this very time." Catherine bent her eyes on her plate. She was tingling with nervous excitement. "Do you know him, then?" said Mrs.
Edward and his father were also all but banished from her bedside. "Really," said Dr. Ardagh to the Commodore, "I must insist upon absolute quiet as the first requisite for my patient's recovery. Those daily visits are exciting and harmful. Mrs. Dunlop has a perfect genius for sick-nursing, and you can safely leave your daughter to her. She is really a remarkable woman!"
"Sir George! How kind of you to come! I wish Maxwell were in. He would have enjoyed a chat with you so much. But Lord Ardagh sent him a note at breakfast-time, and he has just gone over to Downing Street. Hallin, move your puzzle a little, and make a way for Sir George to pass. Will you sit there?"
"If you must know, I mean, if you care to know, please," she said at length, "the most interesting person I ever met was yes, I suppose he was a wicked man." Her curious, sharp-featured, yet attractive, face was hot all over as she finished. Catherine divined at once that she was speaking of the person who, according to Mrs. Ardagh, had wished "to lead her to the devil."
Lady D here suggested the possibility of his labouring under the hallucinations of a fever; but to this Lady Ardagh quickly replied: 'Oh! no, no! Would to God I could think it. Oh! no, no! Wait till you have seen him.
Some short time after this strange interview between Sir Robert and Lady Ardagh; one night after the family had retired to bed, and when everything had been quiet for some time, the bell of Sir Robert's dressing-room rang suddenly and violently; the ringing was repeated again and again at still shorter intervals, and with increasing violence, as if the person who pulled the bell was agitated by the presence of some terrifying and imminent danger.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking