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Updated: May 31, 2025
Grisell looked at her mother, who lay in the same state, entirely past her reach. The hard, stern woman, who had seemed to have no affection to bestow on her daughter, had been entirely broken down and crushed by the loss of her sons and husband. Probably neither had realised that by forcing Grisell on young Copeland they might be giving their Tower to their enemy.
Ridley very decidedly hoped that Clifford's blow had freed her from her reluctant husband; and mayhap the marriage would give her claims on the Copeland property. But Grisell somehow could not join in the wish.
"Yea, at Blore Heath; and I thought to win my spurs on the Copeland banner, but even as I was making my way to it and the recreant that bore it, I was stricken across my steel cap and dazed." "I'll warrant it," muttered his father. "When I could look up again all was changed, the banner nowhere in sight, but I kept my saddle, and cut down half a dozen rascaille after that."
"You mean if you were n't tied down to your Second Deputy's chair you could go out and get him!" "I could!" "Within a reasonable length of time?" "I don't know about the time! But I could get him, all right." "If you were still on the outside work?" interposed Copeland. "I certainly would n't expect to dig him out o' my stamp drawer," was Blake's heavily facetious retort.
A Russian officer, who happened to be their neighbour in the Lazaretto, spoke in glowing terms of the bravery of Jewish soldiers in Russia, and of their wonderful endurance in the days of want and distress so often experienced during the war. Friday, 14th December. Lady Stoddart and her son paid them a visit; Captain and Mrs Copeland also came to see them.
Copeland and myself from Tanna to the Church at home, the following statements occur: "We found the Tannese to be painted Savages, enveloped in all the superstition and wickedness of Heathenism. All the men and children go in a state of nudity. The older women wear grass skirts, and the young women and girls, grass or leaf aprons like Eve in Eden.
All the high born sat on the dais, raised on two steps with gorgeous tapestry behind, and a canopy overhead; the Earl and Countess on chairs in the centre of the long narrow table. Lady Whitburn sat beside the Earl, Sir William Copeland by the Countess, watching with pleasure how deftly his son ran about among the pages, carrying the trenchers of food, and the cups.
A nervous tug-of-war was taking place between her right and left hand, with a twisted-up pair of ecru gloves for the cable. "You know me," he began again in his deliberate and abdominal bass. "And I know you. I 've got 'o get this man Binhart. I 've got 'o! He 's been out for seven months, now, and they 're going to put it up to me, to me, personally. Copeland tried to get him without me.
Yet, as she observed, Mistress Grisell was a North Country maid, never couthly or conformable, but like a boy, who would moreover always be after Leonard Copeland, whether he would or no.
Her eye caught a framed picture of the old monastery of Amalfi hanging over the bookcase. "Perhaps you've lived in Italy?" she asked. Miss Prescott started slightly. "No," she said; "but I've spent some time there." "That picture of Amalfi, up there, made me think of it. Olivia Copeland, you know, lives near there, at Sorrento." A gleam of interest flashed into Miss Prescott's eye.
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