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Updated: June 27, 2025
The boat had been for some time launched, and Philip acting as captain, with Sophy and their mother as passengers, and Harry as crew, started in her to pay their visit of welcome to D'Arcy's mother and sisters, who had just arrived at his clearing. The Ashtons were very much pleased with them. They were just what they expected D'Arcy's relatives would be.
"Where?" asked Mr. Bartell D'Arcy. Gabriel pointed to the statue, on which lay patches of snow. Then he nodded familiarly to it and waved his hand. "Good-night, Dan," he said gaily. When the cab drew up before the hotel, Gabriel jumped out and, in spite of Mr. Bartell D'Arcy's protest, paid the driver. He gave the man a shilling over his fare.
We have but hinted at the barest outlines of Mr. D'Arcy's argument which, as against Idealism, is close-reasoned and subtle; and now we have left but little space to deal with the more really interesting chapter on the "Ultimate Unity."
However much we may dissent from Mr. D'Arcy's theology in certain details; however little we personally may labour under the difficulties of idealism, we cannot too strongly commend the endeavour to meet the modern mind on its own platform; to speak to the cultivated in their own language.
The honest fellow's feelings then gave way in a burst of tears, which flowed while he apologised for the liberty he became conscious he had taken. D'Arcy's stay with his friends was prolonged over several days, and it was not till he was perfectly recovered that they would allow him to go back to his clearing. He found several subjects to ponder on when he got there.
D'Arcy's explanation of her appearance at Hurstcote Manor was certainly clear enough, but somehow its very clearness aroused suspicion no, I will not say suspicion misgivings. If he had been able, while he seemed so frank and open, to keep away from me a secret I mean the secret of Sinfi Lovell's being concealed in the house what secrets might he not be concealing from me about my own mystery?
It would seem, however, that there is another kind of demonic power the power of shedding quite unconsciously one's personality upon all brought into contact with it. The demonic power of Rossetti, like that of D'Arcy in this story, was quite unconscious. In Rossetti's presence, as in D'Arcy's, it was impossible not to yield to this strange, mysterious power.
D'Arcy's story about finding me in a London studio took entire possession of my mind. How did I get there? Where had I been and what had been my adventures before I got there? Why did the painter, in whose studio Mr. D'Arcy found me, believe that I had been super-naturally sent to him? I shuddered as a thousand dreadful thoughts flowed into my mind. "Mr.
It is more than hinted in the story that D'Arcy's melancholy was the result of the loss of one he deeply loved. From such a loss it was that Rossetti's melancholy moods resulted. There are documentary evidences of the verisimilitude of the picture in every respect. Let one be given out of many.
The ice, though bearing in some places, could not be trusted, and of course the expedition to D'Arcy's clearing was given up for the present; but in the evening, when work was over, skates were unpacked, cleared of rust, and fitted to shoes. All hands set to work with increased vigour to fell the trees, that they might be burnt off before the snow should make the operation more difficult.
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