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Updated: June 19, 2025
"The entire Catholic Church might play hare and hounds with the Holy Father as huntsman and the Cardinals as the whips, through Mr. Buxton's secret labyrinths." "Wait until you are hare, and it is other than Holy Church that is a-hunting," said Mr. Buxton, "and you will thank God for my labyrinths, as you call them." Then she greeted Isabel with great warmth.
Maggie, who was grave, imaginative, and somewhat quaint, took pains in finding words to express the thoughts to which her solitary life had given rise, secure of Mrs. Buxton's ready understanding and sympathy. "You are so like a cloud," said she to Mrs. Buxton. "Up at the Thorn-tree, it was quite curious how the clouds used to shape themselves, just according as I was glad or sorry.
"Oh I took a little liberty with our friend Mr. Buxton's name; and wrote it down to a receipt that was all." Mrs. Browne's face showed that the light came but slowly into her mind. "But that's forgery is not it?" asked she at length, in terror. "People call it so," said Edward; "I call it borrowing from an old friend, who was always willing to lend." "Does he know? is he angry?" asked Mrs. Browne.
It seemed as though they followed him and his fortunes like a curse. He sat silent, stunned, awe-stricken at the force of the calamity that had befallen him. How could he ever induce an officer and a gentleman to believe that he was no instigator in this matter? that it was all Buxton's doing, Buxton's low imagination that had conceived the possibility of such a crime on the part of Mr.
Buxton's own little room downstairs, he hinted something of the sort. Mr. Buxton laughed outright. In a week from now you will be considering how ever Father Robert can have the heart to eat his dinner or say 'good-day' with such a spiritual vision and insight as he has. You need not fear.
Instead of being furious with him, the whole regiment officers and men simply ridiculed and laughed at him. He had talked of preferring charges against Blake for insubordination, and asked the adjutant what he thought of it. It was the first time he had spoken to the adjutant for weeks, and the adjutant rushed out of the office to tell the crowd to come in and "hear Buxton's latest."
She was startled by the sound of a horse's feet, softly trampling through the long heather. It was Frank Buxton's. "My father thought Mrs. Browne would like to see the Woodchester Herald. Is Edward gone?" said he, noticing her sad face. "Yes! he is just gone down the hill to the coach. I dare say you can see him crossing the bridge, soon.
Buxton's face grew dark. "Ah yes, I see a pretty revenge." The magistrate was on the point of asking an explanation, for he felt on the best of terms again now with his prisoner, when there were footsteps outside and voices; and there stood four constables, with Nichol, Hubert Maxwell and Lackington in furious debate coming up the path behind.
Macalister, Prof., on variations of the palmaris accessorius muscle; on muscular abnormalities in man; on the greater variability of the muscles in men than in women. Macaws, Mr. Buxton's observations on. McCann, J., on mental individuality. McClelland, J., on the Indian Cyprinidae. Macculloch, Col., on an Indian village without any female children. Macculloch, Dr., on tertian ague in a dog.
It was Uncle Nicholas, in a frock-coat and his special cut-away collar, with a black tie passed through a ring. Heavens! How young and dapper he looked at eighty-two! "I think Roger'd have been pleased," his uncle went on. "The thing was very well done. Blackley's? I'll make a note of them. Buxton's done me no good.
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