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Updated: May 1, 2025
You all like your horrid fuzzy tweeds and worsteds too well!" "You speak with feeling. One would almost suspect that you already had tried to bring about a reform and failed. Perhaps Mr. Cyril, now, or Mr. Bertram " Arkwright stopped with a whimsical smile. Billy flushed a little.
"It was such a favourite of mine, Miss Arkwright," said he; "but what is sacred to a maid-of-all-work? My only consolation, when she smashed it this morning, was the thought that it would serve in the foreground of your sketch."
The profits are to go to the Home for Crippled Children, you know," she explained, turning to Arkwright, "and we decided to hire only the accompanist." An odd expression flitted across Miss Greggory's face. "Mr. Arkwright used to sing tenor," she observed quietly. "As if he didn't now a perfectly glorious tenor," retorted Billy. "But as if he would take this!"
Arkwright's heart ached with sympathy and admiration at the proudly courageous way in which Billy carried off the next few painful minutes. Even when he bade her good night a little later, only her eyes said "thank you." Her lips were dumb. Arkwright often went home with Bertram after that. Not that it was always necessary far from it.
Again Arkwright saw the expression that made him feel extremely uncertain of the accuracy of his estimates of the "wild man's" character. "Yes, I'll get her," said Josh, "and for a reason that never occurs to you shallow people. I get what I want because what I want wants me for the same reason that the magnet gets the steel." Arkwright looked admiringly at his friend's strong, aggressive face.
It was to be Alice and Calderwell, not Alice and Arkwright. Arkwright was again to be disappointed in his dearest hopes. Telling herself indignantly that it could not be, it should not be, Billy determined to remain after the men had gone, and speak to Alice. Just what she would say she did not know. Even what she could say, she was not sure.
"I only told you so you'd understand that it was just as well if I did have something to take up my mind besides Bertram. And of course music would be the most natural thing." "Yes, of course," agreed Aunt Hannah. "And it seems actually almost providential that Mary I mean Mr. Arkwright is here to help me, now that Cyril is gone," went on Billy, still a little wistfully. "Yes, of course.
It was through her habit of rising late and taking hours to dress. Part of his code of conduct an interpolation of his own into the Arkwright manual for a honeymooning gentleman was that he ought to wait until she was ready to breakfast, before breakfasting himself. Several mornings she heard tempestuous sounds round the camp for two hours before she emerged from her room.
That it was prudent and well conducted no one could doubt. Her neighbours of course did say of her that she would not drink tea with Mrs. Arkwright of Mount Pleasant villa because she was allowed the privilege of entering Sir Peregrine's drawing-room; but such little scandal as this was a matter of course.
Then there is a loud outcry among all the smaller contrivers, who see themselves distanced in the race; and hence men such as Watt, Stephenson, and Arkwright, have usually to defend their reputation and their rights as practical and successful inventors. Richard Arkwright, like most of our great mechanicians, sprang from the ranks. He was born in Preston in 1732.
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