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Updated: June 19, 2025
The lady made an exclamation. "I shall bear you a grudge for this, sir." "I am vastly obliged, ma'am." The lady drew back a little and looked at him full, which he bore calmly. "I suppose I am beneath Mr. Boyce's concernment." "Not beneath, ma'am. Above. Above. Do you admire the Italian medals? They are of a delicate restraint," He turned to the cabinet and began to lecture.
Boyce showed himself not a whit less partial to Wharton than before; pressed him at least twice in Raeburn's hearing to make Mellor his head-quarters so long as it suited him, and behaved with an irritable malice with regard to some of the details of the wedding arrangements, which neither Mrs. Boyce's indignation nor Marcella's discomfort and annoyance could restrain.
Waverton rides over sometimes to the Hall at Highgate. Miss Lam Mrs. Boyce's house;" the butler looked knowing. "Mrs. Boyce? Eh, is that Colonel Boyce's lady?" The butler smiled discreetly. "No, sir, to be sure. Young Boyce young Mr. Boyce, sir." Captain McBean wheeled round in such a hurry that the butler was almost overthrown. They clattered off.
"I must know how Harry does and make sure that he has the best there is for him. Surgery and friends he will need both, sound and sure." "Be satisfied. I shall well provide him." Captain McBean shook his head. "Damn your infernal impudence." Colonel Boyce's temper gave way. "Od's life, sir, this is infamous. You put upon me that I would mishandle my own son as he lies wounded and near death!
All his effects were sold, and among the rest his books, by an auction at Portsmouth, for a very small price; for the bookseller was now discovered to have been perfectly a master of his trade, and, relying on Mr. Boyce's finding little time to read, had sent him not only the most lasting wares of his shop, but duplicates of the same, under different titles.
She raised her eyes to her mother's pinched and mask-like face. Mrs. Boyce's lips moved as though she would have asked a question. But she did not ask it. She drew, instead, the stealthy breath Marcella knew well the breath of one who has measured precisely her own powers of endurance, and will not risk them for a moment by any digression into alien fields of emotion.
An energetic lady who had met the Serbian Minister in London conceived the happy idea of organising a Serbian Flag Day in Wellingsford, and reaped a prodigious harvest. We were all tremendously patriotic, living under Boyce's reflected glory. At first I had deprecated the proposal, fearing lest Boyce might not find it acceptable.
Clearly not a family of any very great pretensions a race for the most part of frugal, upright country gentlemen to be found, with scarcely an exception, on the side of political liberty, and of a Whiggish religion; men who had given their sons to die at Quebec, and Plassy, and Trafalgar, for the making of England's Empire; who would have voted with Fox, but that the terrors of Burke, and a dogged sense that the country must be carried on, drove them into supporting Pitt; who, at home, dispensed alternate justice and doles, and when their wives died put up inscriptions to them intended to bear witness at once to the Latinity of a Boyce's education, and the pious strength of his legitimate affections a tedious race perhaps and pig-headed, tyrannical too here and there, but on the whole honourable English stuff the stuff which has made, and still in new forms sustains, the fabric of a great state.
Aldous gazed at him in silence. It was certainly pretty bad worse than he had thought. "And the wife and child?" he said presently. "Oh, poor things!" said Lord Maxwell, forgetting everything for the moment but his story "when Boyce's imprisonment was up they disappeared with him. His constituents held indignation meetings, of course.
"Of course for Mrs. Boyce's sake alone I should have no alternative." She turned round and began to take up the thread of the Nocturne from the point where she had left off; but she only played half a page and quitted the piano abruptly. "The pretty little spell is broken, Majy. No matter how we try to escape from the war, it is always shrieking in upon us.
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