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Updated: May 23, 2025
Heywood had invited me to dinner last evening. . . . Her house is very finely situated, overlooking Hyde Park, and not a great way from where Tyburn tree used to stand. When I arrived, there were no guests but Mr. and Mrs. D ; but by and by came Mr. Monckton Milnes and lady, the Bishop of Lichfield, Mr. Tom Taylor, Mr. Ewart, M. P., Sir Somebody Somerville, Mr. and Mrs. Musgrave, and others. Mr.
Truly he was under a cloud, poor fellow, and I often felt sorry for all the open snubs he received. As we sat that night smoking outside on the pavement, with the merry, careless populace idling to and fro, he seemed a trifle more pensive than usual, and I inquired the reason. "Nothing, Ewart," he declared, with a faint smile; "nothing very particular. Thoughts only thoughts of " "Of what?"
It was deemed necessary, to provide against every emergency, so special constables in great numbers were sworn in previous to the meetings, and it is interesting to observe that amongst the citizens who came forward in London to enroll themselves as preservers of the peace of society were William Ewart Gladstone, the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Derby, and Prince Louis Napoleon, afterwards Emperor of France.
'No indeed, said Fairford; 'I am utterly ignorant of what you allude to. 'Now, by Jove! said Nanty Ewart, 'thou art either the deepest or the shallowest fellow I ever met with or you are not right after all. I wonder where Summertrees could pick up such a tender along-shore. Will you let me see his letter?
If it had not been for Ewart, I don't think I should have had an inkling of the wonderfulness of this development of my fortunes; I should have grown accustomed to it, fallen in with all its delusions as completely as my uncle presently did. He was immensely proud of the flotation. "They've never been given such value," he said, "for a dozen years."
Whatever may have caused the misunderstanding between her and her lover, a reconcilement was with no great difficulty effected, by the mediation of Sheridan's young friend, Mr. Ewart; and, at length, after a series of stratagems and scenes, which convinced Mr.
You must figure me a rather ill-dressed young man in a state of great earnestness, standing up in that shabby studio of his and saying these things, perhaps with some gesticulations, and Ewart with a clay-smudged face, dressed perhaps in a flannel shirt and trousers, with a pipe in his mouth, squatting philosophically at a table, working at some chunk of clay that never got beyond suggestion.
Milly was a woman of thirty, perhaps, with a broad, rather pretty face, a placid disposition, a bad accent and delightful blond hair that waved off her head with an irrepressible variety of charm; and whenever Ewart spoke she beamed at him. Ewart was always sketching this hair of hers and embarking upon clay statuettes of her that were never finished.
I was in my room at the Hotel Bonne Femme in Turin, having a wash after a dusty run with the "forty," when the waiter announced Mr. Bianchi, and the sharp-featured, black-haired little man, recently promoted from Florence to watch the Anarchists in Milan. "I am very glad, Signor Ewart, that I have been able to catch you here; you are such a bird of passage, you know," he said in Italian.
The Baron was hand in hand with Gapon and his colleagues, but escaped to England, and has been there for nearly a year, until, as the outcome of the dastardly plot against you, he altered his appearance, and returned as George Ewart, chauffeur to Baron Bindo di Ferraris of Rome. The arrests yesterday were very smartly made." "But how do you know the details of the attempt upon me?"
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