Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 25, 2025
"I see with reasonable eyes, if that is what you mean. The people I know, mine own people, understand Elsa Chetwood." So her name was Elsa? He repeated it over and over in his mind. She continued her exposition. "There are but few, gently born. They are generous and broad-minded. They could not be mine own people otherwise. They are all I care about. I shun mediocrity as I would the plague.
But whatever we do we must be careful not to let Elma and the young man get thrown together again. I should say myself it wouldn't be a bad plan if we were to send her away somewhere for the rest of the summer, but I can tell you better about all this to-morrow." Elma, for her part, had come home from Chetwood Court more full than ever of Cyril Waring.
"Chetwood and Curll accept this glorious strife," the latter, as always, wins the obscene contest, "and the pleas'd dame soft-smiling leads away." Nearly all of this account is impudent slander, but Mr. Pope's imputations may have had enough truth in them to sting.
There is one more favor; do not tell Miss Chetwood that my name is Ellison." "I should use my own name, if I were you. Why, man, you can return to the States as if you had departed but yesterday. The world forgets quickly. People will be asking each other what it was that you did. Then I shall bid Miss Chetwood good-by for you?" "Yes. I am going to jog it home.
I wouldn't be mean enough for a minute to interfere with your find. But I'm not surprised at you. I would do the same myself, if I could have seen her first. I won't see her again. I couldn't stand it. She's too beautiful to see and not to fall in love with." Mrs. Clifford returned from Chetwood Court that clay in by no means such high spirits as when she went there.
She took that soft white hand in hers and pressed it hard in silence. "It's no wonder, you know," she said at last, after a long deep pause. "He's going away from Chetwood to-day and it was so very, very hard to say good-bye to him for ever." "Oh yes, I know, darling," Mrs. Clifford answered, eyeing her harder than ever now with a half-incredulous look. "I know all that.
Then, if our players stray, perchance, into the gloomy precincts of a pawn-shop, are we not quite prepared to steal up to the window and discover what tribute is being paid to mine uncle? And so, speaking of pot-houses, and negus, and pawn-shops, let us end our extracts from the invaluable Chetwood with this unconventional reminiscence of another player, Mr. John Thurmond.
"You've been in Chetwood Forest, Elma," she murmured low, looking down and averting her eyes carefully from her trembling daughter. "Yes, mother," Elma answered, all aglow with conscious blushes. "In Chetwood Forest." "And you met him, dear?" The mother spoke tenderly and sympathetically. Elma's heart stood still. "Yes, mother, I met him." "And he had the snake there?" Elma started in surprise.
Miss Chetwood, I took money that did not belong to me. It went over gaming-tables. Craig. I ran away. Craig knows and this man Mallow knows. Can you not see the wisdom of giving me a wide berth?" "Oh, I am sorry!" she cried. "Thanks. But you see: I am an outcast. To-night, not a soul on board will be in ignorance of who I am and what I have done. Trust Craig and Mallow for that.
He couldn't get lodgings at Chetwood itself, so he's put up for the present at the White Lion, at Tilgate, and runs over by train every day to Warnworth. It's three stations away four off Lavington. He'd have been daubing for an hour in the wood by that time." "Well, I didn't attach any great importance to it myself," Nevitt went on, unconcerned. "I thought most likely Cyril wouldn't be there.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking