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Updated: June 13, 2025
He was barely in time to catch the train for Albany, and arrived there just as the dusk was creeping up and the golden-hearted stars were coming out. He made his way with all haste to the place where he had left Jessie. He must see her, and have a talk with her. He would not take "no" for an answer. The neat little maid who opened the door for him recognized the gentleman at once.
A golden-hearted old dust contractor, who hides a will that will give him all that erratic father's property, and disinherit the man aforesaid, and who, to crown his virtues, pretends to be a miser in order to teach the young woman, also aforesaid, how bad it is to be mercenary, and to induce her to marry the unrecognized and seemingly penniless son; their marriage accordingly, with ultimate result that the bridegroom turns out to be no poor clerk, but the original heir, who, of course, is not dead, and is the inheritor of thousands; subsidiary groups of characters, of course, one which I think rather uninteresting, of some brand-new people called the Veneerings and their acquaintances, for they have no friends; and some fine sketches of the river-side population; striking and amusing characters too Silas Wegg, the scoundrelly vendor of songs, who ferrets among the dust for wills in order to confound the good dustman, his benefactor; and the little deformed dolls' dressmaker, with her sot of a father; and Betty Higden, the sturdy old woman who has determined neither in life nor death to suffer the pollution of the workhouse; such, with more added, are the ingredients of the story.
The front porch, to be sure, was dripping with crimson ramblers that ought to be cut for the good of the vines; but never the rose in the hand for Tillie! She caught up the kitchen shears and off she dashed through grass and drenching dew. Snip, snip; the short-stemmed sweet-briars, salmon-pink and golden-hearted, with their unique and inimitable woody perfume, fell into her apron.
The flat was "at home" to-day, the festive occasion indicated by the quantities of flowers which adorned it big bowls of golden-hearted roses, tall vases of sweet peas the creamy-yellow ones which merge into oyster pink, while the gorgeous royal scarlet of "King Edward" glowed in dusky corners.
I have dreamed dreams concerning you, dreams of a foolish, golden-hearted girl, who would yield yield gladly all that the world may give, to be one flesh and soul with me. But I have wakened, dear, to the braver reality, that valorous woman, strong enough to conquer even her own heart that her people may be freed from their peril." "Blind! blind!" she cried. Raoul smiled down upon her.
Lake, who was recovering, he brought Margaret home a whole pile of botanical curiosities, and drew his father into an animated battle over natural and Linnaean systems, which kept the whole party merry with the pros and cons every evening for a week. Oh! the golden-hearted daisies, Witnessed there before my youth, To the truth of things, with praises Of the beauty of the truth.
Nature still reigns supreme in this jewel of the Equator, where the amber swathes of Indian laburnum, the golden-hearted whiteness of luscious frangipanni blossom, and the red fire of the flamboyant tree, light up the endless aisles of swaying palms, where temple-flower and tuberose mingle their fragrance with the breath of clove and cinnamon, interpreting the imagery of the Eastern monarch's bridal song, and luring each lover of Earth's manifold beauty to "go down into her garden of spices and gather lilies."
A shirt-sleeved man, all covered with mustache and calm, sat by the table, and he kept right on sitting as he inquired: "Vell?" "My car my automobile has been stuck in the mud. A bad driver, I'm afraid! I wonder if you would be so good as to " "I usually get t'ree dollars, but I dunno as I vant to do it for less than four. Today I ain'd feelin' very goot," grumbled the golden-hearted.
Mr Blatherwick's first feeling was one of remorse that even in thought he should have been harsh to the golden-hearted Bertie. His next was one of elation. Violet, meanwhile, stood patiently before him with the coffee. Mr Blatherwick helped himself. His eye fell on Violet. Violet was a friendly, warm-hearted little thing.
Only one of them hitherto has really stirred the world with his pen-point a prophet of the modern, preaching "Woe, woe" by psycho-physiology; in himself a breezy, burly undegenerate, with a great gray head marvellously crammed with facts and languages; now to prove himself golden-hearted and golden-mouthed, an orator touching equally to tears or laughter.
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