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Updated: May 25, 2025


"When I came to consciousness about twelve the next morning, I saw Charty looking at me and I said to her in a strange voice: "'I can't have any more pain, it's no use. "MARGOT: 'But you don't mean it's all over? "I was so dazed by chloroform that I could hardly speak.

Here a trio we meet, Whom you never will beat, Tho' wide you may wander and far go; From what wonderful art Of that Gallant Old Bart, Sprang CHARTY and LUCY and MARGOT? To LUCY he gave The wiles that enslave, Heart and tongue of an angel to CHARTY; To MARGOT the wit And the wielding of it, That make her the joy of a party.

It was difficult to find a better-looking couple than Charty and Ribblesdale; I have often observed people following them in picture-galleries; and their photographs appeared in many of the London shop-windows.

Charty as we called her was in some ways the most capable of us all, but she had not Laura's genius, Lucy's talents, nor my understanding. She had wonderful grace and less vanity than any one that ever lived; and her social courage was a perpetual joy. I heard her say to the late Lord Rothschild, one night at a dinner party: "And do you still believe the Messiah is coming, Lord Natty?"

I lay with my arm under Laura, as I did in the old Glen days, when after our quarrels we crept into each other's beds to'make it up. Alfred was holding one of her hands against his forehead; and Charty was kneeling at her feet. "She looked much the same, but a deeper shadow ran under her brow and her mouth seemed to be harder shut.

I rushed to my sister Charty and found her even more upset than my mother. She pointed out with some truth that Lucy's marriage and the obstinacy with which she had pursued it had gone far towards spoiling her early life; but "the squire," as Graham Smith was called, although a character-part, was a man of perfect education and charming manners.

One day when the Rifle Brigade was quartered at Winchester, Ribblesdale who was a captain sent Charty out hunting with old Tubb, the famous dealer, from whom he had hired her mount. As he could not accompany her himself, he was anxious to know how her ladyship had got on; the old rascal-wanting to sell his horse raised his eyes to heaven and gasped: "Hornamental palings! My lord!!"

This interested me, as Charty and I had not spoken to each other of Sir Alfred Lyall, who was a new acquaintance of ours. MARGOT: "I am sure, Master, you did not give her the same answer as Mr. Huxley gave me; you don't think well of my sex, do you?"

Continuing from my diary: "My papa was a character-part; and some people never understood character-parts. "None of his children are really like him; yet there are resemblances which are interesting and worth noting. "Charty on the whole resembles him most.

"I did not take this in and asked to be allowed to say one word to her. ... I said: "'I know she'd like to see me, darling, if only just to nod to, and I promise I will go away quickly. Indeed, indeed I would not tire her! I want to tell her the train was late and the doctor would not let me come up yesterday. Only one second, PLEASE, Charty! ... "'But, my darling heart, she's unconscious.

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