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Updated: May 27, 2025
Combermere had been a darling and assured her that she was quite right in all that she had done, and that it made her, Mrs. Combermere, feel quite young again, and that she would help them in every way that she could, and parting at the Arden Gate, she had kissed Joan just as though she were her very own daughter. So Joan, shining with happiness, came back to the house.
I hope the pretty little girl my people saw with her will pay her more tender attention. Three days later she wrote: 'Johnson's Diary is selling rapidly, though the contents are bien maigre, I must confess. Mr. Duppa has politely suppressed some sarcastic expressions about my family, the Cottons, whom we visited at Combermere, and at Lleweney. Hayward's Piozzi, ii. 176-9. Mr.
Combermere, they were really men. It was to her most humiliating of all, that nothing in their relations worried him. He was perfectly at ease about it all, and fancied that she was the same. Meanwhile her real life was not dead, only dormant.
Sad times these for this free country, Mr. Combermere St. I tell you what, Mr. Pelham, we shall never do anything for this country till we get rid of those landed aristocrats, with their ancestry and humbug. I hope you're of my mind, Mr. Pelham." "Why," answered I, "there is certainly nothing so respectable in Great Britain as our commercial interest.
Sharpon, our lawyer, and considered by our friends as a masterpiece: for, as my mother sagely observed, it did not commit me in a single instance espoused no principle, and yet professed what all parties would allow was the best. At the first house where I called, the proprietor was a clergyman of good family, who had married a lady from Baker-street: of course the Reverend Combermere St.
"Oh, everybody knows," said Miss Stiles, looking round to Miss Dobell and the doctor for support, "that young Brandon is spending the whole of his time down in Seatown, and that Miss Annie Hogg is not entirely unconnected with his visits." "Really, Ellen," said Mrs. Combermere, bringing her fist down upon the table, "you're a disgusting woman.
What! do you think my brother is made of iron? Out all night with you then off, with scarce a wink of sleep; then two days and two nights chasing the Combermere, sometimes gaining, sometimes losing, and his credit and his good name hanging on it; then to beat back against wind, heartbroken, and no food on board " "Oh, it is too horrible." "He staggered into me, white as a ghost.
It was even said that she smoked cigars, but no one, I think, ever saw her do this. On this afternoon she subjected Miss Stiles to a magisterial inquiry; Miss Stiles had on the preceding evening given a little supper party, and no one in Polchester did anything of the kind without having to render account to Mrs. Combermere afterwards. They all sat round the fire, because it was a cold day. Mrs.
Cuthbert and M. Charles Laffitte have acquired, for both are well acquainted with the literature of each, which renders their society very agreeable. Spent last evening in the Rue d'Anjou, where I met Lady Combermere, the Dowager Lady Hawarden, and Mrs. Masters. Lady Combermere is lively and agreeable, un peu romanesque, which gives great originality to her conversation, and sings Mrs.
"Oh, I don't know, father.... I went to the Library this morning to change the books for mother " "Novels, I suppose. No one ever reads anything but trash nowadays." "They hadn't anything that mother put down. They never have. Miss Milton sits on the new novels and keeps them for Mrs. Sampson and Mrs. Combermere." "Sits on them?" "Yes really sits on them.
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