Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 5, 2025
Maybe you'd like to know how I met her," smiled Billy. "Alice Greggory?" Arkwright's eyes showed a sudden interest. "I used to know an Alice Greggory, but it isn't the same one, probably. Her mother was a cripple." Billy gave a little cry. "Why, it is it must be! My Alice Greggory's mother is a cripple. Oh, do you know them, really?"
Eleanor's unusual abilities, the extent of her knowledge and reading on general subjects, the rapidity with which she picked up conversational French and wielded it in discussions with Madame, and finally her industry and perseverance, won Madame's admiration and good-will. I think she almost believed that Mademoiselle Arkwright's word was to be relied upon.
I think that our short association with this excellent lady went far to cure us of the silly fancies and tricks of vulgar gossip which we had gleaned from Miss Perry. So matters went on for some months, much to Matilda's and my satisfaction, when a letter from my other guardian changed our plans once more. Mr. Arkwright's only daughter was going to school.
Only, please, don't blame yourself," he begged as he saw her eyes fill with tears. The next moment he was gone. Billy had turned away and was crying softly, so she did not see him go. Bertram called that evening. Billy had no story now to tell nothing of the interrupted romance between Alice Greggory and Arkwright. Billy carefully, indeed, avoided mentioning Arkwright's name.
"I am glad to see you have got promotion," said the old lady, looking out at Lady Mason's little phaeton on the gravel sweep which divided Mrs. Arkwright's house from the street. For Mrs. Arkwright's house was Mount Pleasant Villa, and therefore was entitled to a sweep. "It was a present from Lucius," said the other, "and as such must be used.
A moment later a plainly agitated Aunt Hannah her gray shawl topped with a huge black one opened the door of the house. At ten minutes before six on the afternoon of Arkwright's arrival, Billy came into the living-room to welcome the three Henshaw brothers, who, as was frequently the case, were dining at Hillside.
There, with his hands in his pockets, and upon his face what he thought an excellent imitation of Arkwright's easy, bored expression of thinly-veiled cynicism, he surveyed the scene and tried to judge it from the standpoint of the "common people." His verdict was that it was vain, frivolous, unworthy, beneath the serious consideration of a man of affairs such as he.
Nor was she finding it easy to give satisfactory answers to the questions Aunt Hannah, William, and Bertram so often asked her as to where Mary Jane was. Even her music was little comfort to her these days. She was not writing anything. There was no song in her heart to tempt her to write. Arkwright's new words that he had brought her were out of the question, of course.
As she asked the question Billy turned and looked squarely into Arkwright's face. She saw, therefore, the great change that came to it, as her meaning became clear to him. Her first feeling was one of shocked realization that Arkwright had, indeed, been really blind. Her second she turned away her eyes hurriedly from what she thought she saw in the man's countenance.
Soon after Arkwright's invention of the spinning-frame, Edmund Cartwright invented the power-loom, the idea of which came to him while he was visiting Arkwright's cotton-mills at Cromford. Cartwright took out his first patent in 1785. Within fifty years from that time there were at least one hundred thousand power-looms at work in Great Britain.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking