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Updated: June 8, 2025
A little circumstance which occurred during this visit, increased his interest for the family. When Lady de Cressy's little boys came in after dinner, one of them was playing with a seal, which had just been torn from a letter. The child showed it to Lord Colambre, and asked him to read the motto. The motto was, "Deeds, not words." His friend Sir James Brooke's motto, and his arms.
He had not seen him since he left the school; he had forgotten his existence; even now he only remembered his successor, Joe Masters, and he looked curiously around to see if that later suitor of Cressy's was present. It was not until he reached the door that he began to think seriously of Seth Davis's jealous face, and was roused to a singular indignation.
He kept steadily along the trail that followed the line of fence to the lane that led directly to the farm-building, and pushed open the front gate as Cressy's light dress vanished round an angle at the rear of the house. The house of the McKinstrys rose, or rather stretched, itself before him, in all the lazy ungainliness of Southwestern architecture.
We stopped at the village inn, the "Toison d'Or" which is famous for its restaurant and its landlady. In the season the Duc de Cressy's coach comes here from Paris every Thursday. Hippolyte was there already; he had been sent on to secure a table for us. We had no sooner sat down under the awning than the Vicomte and "Antoine" and two other officers turned up.
A jeweled cigarette case of unique design shared the same fate. Quick eyes roaming the desk observed the telegram form upon which Maitland had written Cressy's name and address. Momentarily perplexed, the thief pondered this; then, with a laughing oath, seized the pen and scribbled, with no attempt to imitate the other's handwriting, a message: "Regret unavoidable detention.
Ford's possible relations to her daughter, and suspecting nothing, she felt towards him only a dull aversion as being the senseless pivot of her troubles. Seeing no one, and habitually closing her ears to any family allusion to Cressy's social triumphs, she was unaware of even the popular admiration their memorable waltz had excited.
Why might not Uncle Ben be jealous too? and if his single waltz had really appeared so compromising why should not Cressy's father object? But both men albeit, McKinstry usually exhibited a vague unreasoning contempt for Uncle Ben were unanimous in their congratulations and outspoken admiration. "When I see'd you sail in, Mr.
Even the "Fifth Reader," with its imposing passages from the English classics carefully selected with a view of paralyzing small, hesitating, or hurried voices, in Cressy's hands became no longer an unintelligible incantation. She had quietly mastered the difficulties of pronunciation by some instinctive sense of euphony if not of comprehension.
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