Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 2, 2025
"And from that moment," said Mrs. Braefield, passionately, "my whole heart leaped to him. And now you know all; and here we are at the Lodge."
"And now," said Mr. Braefield, rising, "I must just have a word with your gardener, and then go home. We dine earlier here than in London, Mr. Chillingly." As the two gentlemen, after taking leave, re-entered the hall, Lily followed them and said to Kenelm, "What time will you come to-morrow to see the picture?"
Kenelm said this very softly; and in the warmer light of his musing eyes, the sweeter play of his tranquil smile, there was an expression which did not belie his words. "You have not told me where you have found a lodging," said Mrs. Braefield, somewhat abruptly. "Did I not?" replied Kenelm, with an unconscious start, as from an abstracted reverie.
The child left Kenelm's side and ran after her friend, soon overtook, but did not succeed in arresting her steps. Lily did not pause till she had reached the grassy ball-room, and here all the children came round her and shut out her delicate form from Kenelm's sight. Before he had reached the place, Mrs. Braefield met him. "Lily is come!" "I know it: I have seen her." "Is not she beautiful?"
Braefield was busying herself with forming the dance, Kenelm seized the occasion to escape from a young nymph of the age of twelve who had sat next him at the banquet, and taken so great a fancy to him that he began to fear she would vow never to forsake his side, and stole away undetected.
A few minutes afterward Kenelm was walking by the side of Lily along the banks of a little stream tributary to the Thames; Mrs. Cameron and Mr. Braefield in advance, for the path only held two abreast. Suddenly Lily left his side, allured by a rare butterfly I think it is called the Emperor of Morocco that was sunning its yellow wings upon a group of wild reeds.
She looked wonderfully lovely; and with that loveliness there was a certain nameless air of distinction, possibly owing to delicacy of form and colouring; possibly to a certain grace of carriage, which was not without a something of pride. Mr. Braefield, who was a very punctual man, made a sign to his servant, and in another moment or so dinner was announced.
"Too early! certainly not; on the contrary. Good-day: I must now go to Mrs. Somers; she has charge of my portmanteau." Then Kenelm rose. "Poor dear Lily!" said Mrs. Braefield; "I wish she were less of a child." Kenelm reseated himself. "Is she a child? I don't think she is actually a child."
"A pretty little place that," said Mr. Braefield, with a sort of lordly compassion, as became the owner of Braefieldville. "What I call quaint." "Yes, quaint," echoed Kenelm, abstractedly. "It is always the case with houses enlarged by degrees. I have heard my poor mother say that when Melville or Mrs.
In short, the whole intellectual culture had come to a dead stop long years ago, perhaps before Lily was born. Now, while she is gazing into space Mrs. Braefield is announced. Mrs. Cameron does not start from revery. She never starts. But she makes a weary movement of annoyance, resettles herself, and lays the serious book on the sofa table.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking