Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 4, 2025
It was the preserve, the hunting-park of one of the old grand seigneurs, still kept up by his descendants, the Comtes de Fontonelles hundreds of acres that had never been tilled, and kept as wild waste wilderness, kept for a day's pleasure in a year! And, look you! the peasants starving around its walls in their small garden patches and pinched farms!
For though I don't as a gin'ral thing take stock in ghosts, I BELIEVE EVERY WORD THAT THEM FOLK SAID UP THAR. And," he added, leaning his hand somewhat heavily on Ribaud's shoulder, "if you're the man I take you for, you'll believe it too! And if that chap, Armand de Fontonelles, hadn't hev picked up that gal at that moment, he would hev deserved to roast in hell another three hundred years!
There WAS a something! And if we regard the young lady, you shall hear. The story of Mademoiselle de Fontonelles is that she has walked by herself alone in the garden, you observe, ALONE in the moonlight, near the edge of the wood. You comprehend? The mother and the Cure are in the house, for the time effaced!
What he was thinking of did not matter, but he was a little impatient at the sudden appearance of his host whom he had evaded during the afternoon at his side. The man's manner was full of bursting loquacity and mysterious levity. Truly, it was a good hour when Dick had arrived at Fontonelles, "just in time." He could see now what a world of imbeciles was France.
That's why I believe her story. So you'll let these yer Fontonelles keep their ghosts for all they're worth; and when you next feel inclined to talk about that girl's LOVER, you'll think of me, and shut your head! You hear me, Frenchy, I'm shoutin'! And don't you forget it!"
He was too genuine a Westerner, and too vain a man, to feel flattered at his resemblance to an aristocratic bully, as he believed the ancestral De Fontonelles to be. Even his momentary sensation as he faced the Cure in the picture-gallery was more from a vague sense that liberties had been taken with his, Dick's, personality, than that he had borrowed anything from the portrait.
He borrowed pen, ink, and paper, and in the clean solitude of his fresh chintz bedroom, indited the following letter: DEAR MISS FONTONELLES, Please excuse me for having skeert you. I hadn't any call to do it, I never reckoned to do it it was all jest my derned luck; I only reckoned to tell you I was lost in them blamed woods don't you remember? "lost" PERDOO! and then you up and fainted!
"Well, wot do YOU think?" said Dick sharply. The cafe proprietor looked around him carefully, and then lowered his voice significantly: "A lover!" "A what?" said Dick, with a gasp. "A lover!" repeated Ribaud. "You comprehend! Mademoiselle has no dot, the property is nothing, the brother has everything. A Mademoiselle de Fontonelles cannot marry out of her class, and the noblesse are all poor.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking