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Updated: May 3, 2025
Idle memory, by the way, shortens life, or shortens the sense of time, by linking the immediate past clingingly to the present. Here may possibly be found one of the reasons for the length of a child's time, and for the brevity of the time that succeeds. The child lets his moments pass by and quickly become remote through a thousand little successive oblivions.
And then a third time, more clingingly, more yearningly yet, thrice lighting the fire in his blood with the same straw. Like a vital fire it was left in him at last, a red and white of flame; the two flames forever hostile, and seeking each to burn the other out.
"But you'll never guess his!" Lady Muriel said, with that delicate silvery laugh that was music to my ears. I declined to attempt the impossible. "He doesn't like snakes!" she said, in a stage whisper. "Now, isn't that an unreasonable aversion? Fancy not liking such a dear, coaxingly, clingingly affectionate creature as a snake!" "Not like snakes!" I exclaimed. "Is such a thing possible?"
"Harley," again exclaimed Egerton; and fixing upon his friend's earnest face eyes which, when softened by emotion, were strangely beautiful in their expression, "Harley, if you could but read my heart at this moment, you would you would " His voice faltered, and he fairly bent his proud head upon Harley's shoulder; grasping the hand he had caught nervously, clingingly, "Oh, Harley, if I ever lose your love, your friendship, nothing else is left to me in the world."
And now came the great surprise of the evening, the disclosure of a secret which Gaston and Bertha had carefully guarded. Bertha, in her clingingly affectionate way, knelt down beside Madeleine, and laid in her lap two ancient-looking jewel-cases, her bridal gift to Madeleine. How Madeleine started and trembled at the sight!
And we sit there, by its margin, while the moon, who loves it too, stoops down to kiss it with a sister's kiss, and throws her silver arms around it clingingly; and we watch it as it flows, ever singing, ever whispering, out to meet its king, the sea till our voices die away in silence, and the pipes go out till we, common-place, everyday young men enough, feel strangely full of thoughts, half sad, half sweet, and do not care or want to speak till we laugh, and, rising, knock the ashes from our burnt-out pipes, and say "Good-night," and, lulled by the lapping water and the rustling trees, we fall asleep beneath the great, still stars, and dream that the world is young again young and sweet as she used to be ere the centuries of fret and care had furrowed her fair face, ere her children's sins and follies had made old her loving heart sweet as she was in those bygone days when, a new-made mother, she nursed us, her children, upon her own deep breast ere the wiles of painted civilization had lured us away from her fond arms, and the poisoned sneers of artificiality had made us ashamed of the simple life we led with her, and the simple, stately home where mankind was born so many thousands years ago.
She felt him trembling under her hands, but he only put up his own, and very gently loosed the passionate grasp. "There! there!" he said, in a whisper. "Don't feel so bad. It's all right. I jest turned back for Rosie. Mebbe you won't believe it, but I forgot all about her." He lowered his voice, for Rosie had gone close to him, and laid her hands clingingly upon his coat.
Then he put her into the cart clingingly I'd have chucked her and I leaned over toward him the last thing and threw my head lovingly on one side and rolled my eyes up and murmured at him, "Good-bye, Jack," and started Hotspur before he could hit me. Now, thank the stars, there's just one or two little items more that I've got to write.
They did me such good that night. Her voice did not tremble. Tears softly found their way down Lucy's face. And suddenly she stooped, and put her lips, tenderly, clingingly, to Mrs. Burgoyne's hand. Eleanor smiled. Then she herself bent forward and lightly kissed the girl's cheek. 'Oh! I am not worthy either to have had him or lost him she said bitterly.
He never went into town, and any glances that he may have cast in that direction spoke his desire to be forever free of its sight. Not a train passed that he did not wish himself aboard and away. But as heir-apparent he had no thought of endangering his new kingdom by going before his father went. He meant to keep very close to the throne. He had become clingingly, determinedly filial.
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