Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 16, 2025
Winthrop threw me an amazed look, but instantly recovering himself he said heartily: "The invitation holds good during the term of our natural lives. The sooner it is accepted the more delighted we shall be." Mr. Bovyer bowed his thanks, and coming to my side asked if I would care to attend another concert the following evening. "It depends on what the music is to be. I am not so sensitive as Mr.
I had got so absorbed in my work that I quite forgot our expected guest until I went into the dining-room, unfortunately a little late, and found them already engaged at dinner, and Mr. Bovyer with them. Mr. Winthrop explained my tardiness in such a way that I was left a little cross and uncomfortable, and took my dinner something after the fashion of a naughty child suffering from reproof.
"Yes; Mr. Winthrop is an unerring judge of character; that is, of late years." "Well, I would nearly as soon think of marrying Daniel Blake as this Mr. Bovyer. I have never been in love, but I have an idea what it is," I said, following Mrs. Flaxman to her room. "But Mr. Bovyer might teach you. Did you ever read Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream?"
"I thought you particularly admired Beethoven's Ninth Symphony," I exclaimed, with surprise. "I do not think that crowd of amateurs will do much; although Bovyer gives them great praise. I would as soon hear that Larkum baby crowing as to hear such a masterpiece mangled." "Some passages will be well rendered, surely." "What matter, if one is all the time dreading a discord?
Winthrop neither drank wine nor smoked, and did not encourage these habits in his guests; so that we all left the table together and proceeded to the drawing-room. I was the last of the ladies to pass from the room, and Mr. Bovyer joined me and accompanied me into the drawing-room. I was getting interested in his conversation, when Mr. Winthrop came and urged for some music.
"Oh, yes; and of Titania and Bottom of course, but that was only a dream Mr. Bovyer is a very solid reality. But I must not stay here gossiping. Mr. Winthrop will be waiting for my description of the music." I slipped into my own room to lay aside my wraps, still smiling over Mrs. Flaxman's childish ideas respecting Mr.
But Mr. Bovyer presently turned to me and said, "Really, Miss Selwyn, you must think we have forgotten your existence." "Oh, no, indeed; but I should like you to converse on something within nearer range of my faculties for a little while." "We are all attention." I turned to Mr. Winthrop as he spoke: "Is it really imperative that you have a regular dinner to-day?
I do not think there is a spark of sentiment in your composition." "Alas, that I should be so misjudged. But wait until your friend Bovyer shows you my tears." Mrs. Flaxman generally looked a trifle worried when Mr. Winthrop and I got into conversation. This night, when I wanted every one to be happy, I held my troublesome tongue in check, and made no further reply to my guardian's badinage.
Bovyer to work gathering the bags of confectionery, while I carried them around to the excited children, taking bench by bench in regular order, and filling the little outstretched hands, usually so empty of any such dainties. The people came crowding around to watch, while I began stripping the tree of its more enduring fruits.
Flaxman took up her fan and held it as if shielding her eyes from the light. Bovyer usually awakened when she listened to his music. His first touch on the piano arrested me, and I turned around to watch his face. I recognized the air the opening passage from Haydn's Creation. I was soon spellbound, as were all the rest. Mrs.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking