Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !

Updated: September 27, 2025


T hen she pursued him into the study and thrust a Spectator into his hands, begging him to convey it to Burwood. She asked it lugubriously, with many sighs, her cap much askew. Robert could, have kissed her, curls and all, one moment for suggesting the errand, and the next could almost have signed her committal to the county lunatic asylum with a clear conscience.

The nature which an hour ago had seemed to him so full of stimulus and exhilaration had taken to itself a note of gloom and mourning; for he was at the age when Nature is the mere docile responsive mirror of the spirit, when all her forces and powers are made for us, and are only there to play chorus to our story. They reached the little lane leading to the gate of Burwood.

It was Catherine Catherine just emerged from a footpath across the fields, battling with wind and rain, and quite unconscious of any spectator. Oh, what a sudden thrill was that! what a leaping together of joy and dread, which sent the blood to his heart! Alone they two alone again in the wild Westmoreland mists, and half a mile at least of winding road between them and Burwood.

She does her best, I know, poor child, to conceal it and to feel as she ought about mamma, but I can see that the idea of an indefinite time at Burwood is intolerable to her. As to Berlin, I think she has enjoyed it, but she talks very scornfully of German Schwärmerei and German women, and she tells the oddest stories of her professors.

On the last morning of Mr. Flaxman's stay in the valley he entered the Burwood drive about eleven o'clock, and Rose came down the steps to meet him. For a moment he flattered himself that her disturbed looks were due to the nearness of their farewells. 'There is something wrong, he said, softly detaining her hand a moment so much, at least, was in his right. 'Robert is ill.

I never saw a scene in the world that pleased me half as much as this bare valley, that gray roof' and he pointed to Burwood among its trees 'and this knoll of rocky ground. His look travelled back to her, and her eyes sank beneath it. He threw himself down on the short grass beside her. 'It rained this morning, she still had the spirit to murmur under her breath. He took not the smallest heed.

The nature which an hour ago had seemed to him so full of stimulus and exhilaration, had taken to itself a note of gloom and mourning; for he was at the age when Nature is the mere docile responsive mirror of the spirit, when all her forces and powers are made for us, and are only there to play chorus to our story. They reached the little lane leading to the gate of Burwood.

'And you think, she went on, 'you really think, without being too ungrateful to papa, and too unkind to the old Leyburn ghosts' and a little laugh danced through the vibrating voice 'I might try and get them to give up Burwood I might struggle to have my way? I shall, of course I shall! I never was a meek martyr, and never shall be.

Rose suddenly lifted herself, and they fell into each others' arms. Rose, shaken and excited, thought, of course, of that night at Burwood, when she had won leave to go to Manchester. This scene was the sequel to that the next stage in one and the same process. Her feeling was much the same as that of the naturalist who comes close to any of the hidden operations of life.

Miss Barks, her sister, an old maid with a face that seemed to be perpetually peering forward, light colorless hair surmounted by a cap adorned with artificial nasturtiums, and white-lashed eyes armed with spectacles, was having her way with Mrs. Leyburn, inquiring into the household arrangements of Burwood with a cross-examining power which made the mild widow as pulp before her.

Word Of The Day

bosor

Others Looking