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Updated: June 22, 2025
It left with Dion an impression which was not pleasant, and he could not help wondering whether, during the conversation, his friend had told him a direct and deliberate lie. No more dinners were given by Beattie and Daventry at the Carlton. Robin's health continued to be excellent. Mrs.
Scotch poets, like Thomson and Beattie, had written in southern English, and, as Carlyle said, in vacuo, that is, with nothing specially national in their work. Burns's sweet though rugged Doric first secured the vernacular poetry of his country a hearing beyond the border.
"Andrea?" she asked. "Do you know him?" "Madame Beattie does." She coloured slightly, as if all Madame Beattie's little secrets were to be guarded. "We'll have him up here if he'll come, and we'll learn to pass the bread in Italian. Shall we?" "I'd love to," said Lydia. "We're learning now, Anne and I." "Of Andrea?" "Oh, no. But we're picking up words as fast as we can, all kinds of dialects.
For whether justly or not, Madame Beattie would claim the necklace, and how could Lydia know Jeff had not already paid her for it? And Anne, soft, sweet Anne, what would she do if Lydia threw it in her lap and said, "Look! I took it out of Esther's bag."
Then she winked her eyes open in a way she had, as if returning from distant considerations and said cheerfully: "I suppose you're talking about that stupid necklace." Lydia broke into a little laugh, she did not in the least know why, except that Madame Beattie was always so amusing to her.
He has, however, a voracious appetite for food. I verily believe that on Sunday last he ate as much to dinner as I have done in all for these ten days past. Forbes's Beattie, ed. 1824, p. 315. It was said that Beattie latterly indulged somewhat too much in wine. Ib. p. 432.
During Lydia's incredible story she had let it slip from her hand. And Lydia could see the fingers that braided were trembling, as Anne's voice did, too. "What a dreadful old woman!" said Anne. "Madame Beattie?" Lydia asked quickly. "Oh, no, she's not, Anne. I like her." "Like her? A woman like that? She doesn't even look clean." Lydia answered quite eagerly. "Oh, yes, Anne, I really like her.
How angry has this grave patriot reason to be with his ingenious countryman Beattie, the celebrated champion of Truth, who acknowledges that he never could, when a boy or man, look at a certain translation of Ajax's speech into one of the vulgar Scotch dialects without laughing!
To Mrs Thrale in particular, whose enchantment over him seldom failed, I was much obliged. It was, 'I'll give thee a wind. 'Thou art kind. To attract him, we had invitations from the chiefs Macdonald and Macleod; and, for additional aid, I wrote to Lord Elibank, Dr William Robertson, and Dr Beattie.
Beattie, as a beginner in the spiritual life, had made this still not uncommon mistake.
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