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"At all events, papa, George has never cost his parents a single penny since he left Balliol," Lady Alicia replied, with some spirit and a very high colour. But Lord Fallowfeild was not to be beguiled into discussion of side issues, though his amiable face was crumpled and puckered by the effort to present an uncompromising front to the enemy.
These portraits were the work of a lady whose artistic gifts, and whose prices, were alike modest. They were in coloured chalks, and had, after adorning her own sitting-room for a number of years, been given, as a wedding present, by Lady Fallowfeild to her eldest daughter. Mr.
And yet they manage to make me feel dreadfully uncomfortable and ignorant because I know nothing about them. But when they grow up " "Who, the governesses?" Lord Fallowfeild inquired. "I never supposed they stood in need of that process thought they started out of the egg all finished, as you might say, and ran about at once like chickens."
Very glad to see you, Calmady, and very kind indeed of you and Lady Calmady to take us in in this friendly way and show us hospitality at such short notice " This from Lord Fallowfeild a remarkably tall, large, and handsome person.
Quayle looked full at the speaker, and for once his expression held no hint of impertinence or raillery. "Dickie Calmady is as fine a fellow as ever fought, or won, an almost hopeless battle," he said. "He is somewhat heroic, in my opinion. And he is very lovable." "Is he, though?" Lord Fallowfeild commented, quite gently.
Now, as formerly, he entertained the very friendliest sentiments towards all good women, yet maintained an expensively extensive acquaintance with women to whom that adjective is not generically applicable. But Lord Fallowfeild was fairly under weigh. Words flowed from him, careless of comment or of interruption. He was innocently and conspicuously happy.
Lord Fallowfeild got up, took a turn across the room, came back, and stood in front of her. "I wish you wouldn't, Con," he said. "Upon my soul, I wish you wouldn't. It's a nasty thing for an old man, who has gone the pace in his day pretty thoroughly, to give away a lad who may have made a slip just at the start, and who is doing his best to get his feet again and run straight.
For she was still in half-mourning for her father, the late Lord Fallowfeild, who had died some eighteen months previously at a very venerable age, and with a touching modesty as though his advent in another world might savour of intrusion. He had always been a humble-minded man. He remained so to the last. The windows stood open to the balcony.
To-night she was particularly content, mildly radiant even, thanks to the presence of her favourite brother, the present Lord Fallowfeild, and his avowed admiration of her younger daughter a maiden of nineteen, who stood before her, with shining eyes, in all the delicate splendour of a spotless ball-dress. "Yes, darling, you look very sweet," she said.
You can imagine how perfectly intolerable it is for me to feel that my brother's debts are being canvassed in this sort of way." "I am very sorry there should be any gossip," Lord Fallowfeild said humbly. "Nasty thing gossip lies, too, mostly, all of it. Nasty, low, unprofitable thing gossip." "And, of course, your all not coming up will give colour to it." "Will it though?
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