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Updated: June 14, 2025
The words and the vision of Fontenoy that night were yet with him when at last he turned from the window and threw himself upon the bed, where he finally fell asleep with his arm flung up and across his eyes. Rand, walking hastily through the hail of the Capitol, came out into the portico.
"I shall take the river road." "It is broken riding, but it is the quickest way. Well, I won't be many hours behind you! My humble regards, if you please, to Mrs. Rand. There's nothing now at Fontenoy but wedding talk. I am sure I hope Miss Dandridge may be happy! Here, Di! here, Rover! here, Vixen!" Rand arose. "I've had a long day and I make an early start. Good-night to you, gentlemen!"
He saw her, a child, beneath the apple tree, and in her blue gown that day in the Fontenoy garden, and then again beneath the apple tree, a child no longer, but the woman whom he loved. He saw her face above him the afternoon they laid him in the blue room, and he saw her singing to her harp in the Fontenoy drawing-room, "The thirst that from the soul doth rise "
These exiled Clare O'Briens commanded for three generations their famous family regiment of dragoons. The first who followed King James abroad died of wounds received at the battle of Ramillies; the third, with better fortune, outlived for nearly thirty years the glorious day of Fontenoy.
"I have never heard it but twice," said Rand, and turned again to the balustrade. Below him lay the vast and shadowy landscape. Here and there showed a light a pale earth-star shining from grey hill or vale. Rand looked toward Fontenoy, and he looked wistfully.
I have not thought Miss Dandridge looking cheerful for more than a year and she used to be the gayest thing! always smiling, and with something witty to say every time I came near! I hate changes. This is good wine, Cary." "Yes. I do not, on the whole, think Fontenoy so changed." "Don't you? I do. Well, well, it is not the only place that has changed!
I was not new to violent death I have served his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland, and got a wound myself at Fontenoy but I know my pulse went dot and carry one. "Jim Hawkins is gone," was my first thought. It is something to have been an old soldier, but more still to have been a doctor. There is no time to dilly-dally in our work.
It is not worth while to relate what such a man as Fontenoy said on the occasion. But the challenge was accepted. The seconds were to arrange all the rest. As the day drew near when, as Tournier learned, the colonel would again be out on parole, he felt a strong desire to make his confession to the bishop. There might be but a step between him and death. Besides, he was not easy in his mind.
"Colonel Hume first introduced me to him, and as he too had known my father he promised that should he obtain a victory he would ask as a boon from the king the release of my father, and he did so after Fontenoy, where the Marquis de Recambours was killed, and the king thereby freed from his influence.
She was at the Foreign Office on Saturday, with such a hideous dress on it spoilt her completely." "Hideous!" said Fontenoy, with a puzzled look. "Some artist I forget who came and raved to me about it; said it was like some Florentine picture I forget what don't think I ever heard of it." Letty looked contemptuous.
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