Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 11, 2025
At all events, if it be pride in disguise, it will demand no victim in others; you and I may have a sharp pang we must bear it, Dick." "What on earth is coming now?" said Dick, dolefully. "The due to the dead, Richara Fairthorn. This nook of fair England, in which I learned from the dead to love honour this poor domain of Fawley- shall go in bequest to the College at which I was reared." "Sir!"
There are some landscape effects here which Fairthorn shall point out to you." "I fear, Mr. Darrell," said Lionel, looking down, "that to-morrow I must leave you." "So soon? Well, I suppose the place must be very dull." "Not that not that; but I have offended you, and I would not repeat the offence. I have not the 'ceremonial' necessary to mark me as a gentleman, either here or at home." "So!
No; grumble and refuse as he might till the last moment, he knew well enough that, when it came to the point, he, Richard Fairthorn, must endure any torture that could save Guy Darrell from a pang. A voice comes singing low through the grove the patter of feet on the crisp leaves.
This exploit performed, Fairthorn shambled into his chair at the dinner- table, as George Morley concluded the grace which preceded the meal that in Fairthorn's estimation usually made the grand event of the passing day. But the poor man's appetite was gone. As Sophy dined with Waife, the Morleys alone shared, with host and secretary, the melancholy entertainment.
Lionel looked round for Fairthorn, who now emerged /ab anqulo/ from his nook. "Oh, Mr. Fairthorn, how you have enchanted me! I never believed the flute could have been capable of such effects!" Mr. Fairthorn's grotesque face lighted up. He took off his spectacles, as if the better to contemplate the face of his eulogist.
While Fairthorn and Sophy thus matured acquaintance, Darrell and Waife were drawing closer and closer to each other. Certainly no one would be predisposed to suspect any congeniality of taste, intellect, experience, or emotion, between two men whose lives had been so widely different in whose faults or merits the ordinary observer would have seen nothing but antagonism and contrast.
She is glad to steal out alone-steal down by the banks of the calm lake, or into the gloom of the mournful woods. Here she not unfrequently encounters Fairthorn, who, having taken more than ever to the flute, is driven more than ever to outdoor rambles, for he has been cautioned not to indulge in his melodious resource within doors lest he disturb the patient.
Sally seized him by the collar, and pitched him out the kitchen-door. Her face was the color of fire. "My gracious, Sally!" exclaimed Mother Fairthorn, in amazement; "what's that for?" But Sally had already disappeared, and was relating her trouble to Mark, who roared with wicked laughter, whereupon she nearly cried with vexation. "Never mind," said he; "the boy's right.
But as the two came home in the starlight, the dogs dead beat and poor Fairthorn too, ten to one but what the musician was leaning all his weight on his master's nervous arm, and Darrell was looking with tender kindness in the face of the SOMEONE left to lean upon him still.
Darrell I will ask him how I can be a dis " Her lips could not force out the word. FAIRTHORN. "Ay; go to Mr. Darrell, if you please. He will deny it all; he will never speak to me again. I don't care I am reckless. But it is not the less true that you make him an exile because you may make me a beggar." "Have you no mercy, Mr. Fairthorn? Will you not explain?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking