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Updated: September 9, 2025
It was this last consideration which took the strongest hold on Stanwell he felt Caspar's sufferings chiefly through the thought of his sister's possible disillusionment. WITHIN three months two events had set the studio building talking. Stanwell had painted a full-length portrait of Mrs. Archer Millington, and Caspar Arran had received an order to execute his group in marble.
The truth of this diagnosis became suddenly vivid to Stanwell. How dull of him not to have seen before that it was not cold or privation which was killing Caspar not anxiety for his sister's future, nor the ache of watching her daily struggle but simply the cankering thought that he might die before he had made himself known!
Gilbert said to Isabel that he was very original; he was as strong and of as good a style as an English portmanteau, he had plenty of straps and buckles which would never wear out, and a capital patent lock. Caspar Goodwood took to riding on the Campagna and devoted much time to this exercise; it was therefore mainly in the evening that Isabel saw him.
For the key of the chair was in the black cabinet; the black cabinet was secured with one of lord Herbert's marvellous locks; the key of that lock was in lord Herbert's pocket, and lord Herbert was either in bed at Chepstow or Monmouth or Usk or Caerlyon, or on horseback somewhere else, nobody in Raglan knew where. But Caspar lost no time in unavailing moan.
She had a great sense of beauty in all ways, and it involved a good many intellectual obligations. She was about to turn into the Tribune when a gentleman came out of it; whereupon she gave a little exclamation and stood before Caspar Goodwood. "I've just been at your hotel," she said. "I left a card for you." "I'm very much honoured," Caspar Goodwood answered as if he really meant it.
If the knowledge of what I feel for you had any weight with you at all, calling it a 'little' is a poor account of it." Isabel shook her head as if to carry off a blunder. "I've refused a most kind, noble gentleman. Make the most of that." "I thank you then," said Caspar Goodwood gravely. "I thank you immensely." "And now you had better go home." "May I not see you again?" he asked.
"Only," he heavily said, "I hate to lose sight of you!" "Never fear. I shall do no harm." "You'll marry some one else, as sure as I sit here," Caspar Goodwood declared. "Do you think that a generous charge?" "Why not? Plenty of men will try to make you." "I told you just now that I don't wish to marry and that I almost certainly never shall."
It was done in obedience to a request of Karl who, having noticed the abstracted air of his brother, had asked for an explanation. "I've been thinking," said Caspar, "ever since the eagle has escaped us, of another bird I know something about one that might perform the service we want quite as well, if not better, than a bearcoot." "Another bird!" inquired Karl; "of what bird are you speaking?
The house was built in 1772 by David Deschler, a wealthy West India merchant, the son of an aide-de-camp to the reigning Prince of Baden, and Margaret, a sister of John Wister and Caspar Wistar. After the retreat of the American forces at the conclusion of the Battle of Germantown, Sir William Howe, the British commander, moved his headquarters from Stenton to the Deschler house.
Dorothy knelt and kissed the old man's hand, then rose and went weeping to her chamber, leaving him still seated by the broken yet flowing fountain. Of all who prepared to depart, Caspar Kaltoff was the busiest.
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