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Updated: June 12, 2025
The ring of the door-bell was punctual, and she was thinking with half-sad, affectionate pleasure of the surprise Philip would have in finding that he was to be with her alone, when she distinguished a firm, rapid step across the hall, that was certainly not Philip's; the door opened, and Stephen Guest entered.
"But we are not going to forego the honeymoon," Will said on their first evening, as he and Daisy stood together in the ivy-covered porch. She laughed that little laugh of hers half-gay, half-sad, that seemed like a reminiscence of more mirthful days. "Isn't this romantic enough for you?" He slipped his arm about her waist. "I'm not altogether sure that I did right to let you come here," he said.
"Gillian is not altogether friendless," she resumed, "she will go to you with a little more knowledge of the world than can be gained within these old walls." She glanced round the panelled room with half-sad affection. "She is popular and has spent vacations in the homes of some of her fellow pupils. She has a very decided personality, and a facility for attracting affection.
"Who married Frederic Darrell? Often. My dear Mr. Darrell, is it possible that you that I have the happiness of being related to you?" "To my daughter, if you like her second cousin to me, no," Mr. Darrell said, half-smiling, half-sad. "Your father and his family long ago repudiated all claims of mine I am not going to force myself upon their notice now.
"But consider," warned the Spirit, "that you are now choosing for eternity. It is a solemn moment." "Choosing!" she said, with a half-sad smile. "Do you still keep up here that old fiction about choosing? I should have thought that YOU knew better than that. How can I help myself?
This roof, which is in itself a sort of castle in the air, has an extravagant, faboulus quality, and with its profuse ornamentation, the salamander of Francis I. is a con- tant motive, its lonely pavements, its sunny niches, the balcony that looks down over the closed and grass-grown main entrance, a strange, half-sad, half- brilliant charm. The stone-work is covered with fine mould.
He raised his hat as they went by, but did not so much as look at Cynthia. A sudden silence fell upon her, and it was not till some minutes had passed that she broke it. "Shall I tell you what kept me awake last night, Jack?" she said then. "I think you have a right to know." He glanced at her, encountering one of those smiles, half-sad, half-humorous, that he knew so well.
He was now at ease about Margaret, and knew he had been harsh to another of his motherless girls. "Ah! we must send her to the infant-school, to learn 'this is my right hand, and this is my left," said he, in his half-gay, half-sad manner. "I was very stupid," said Ethel. "Poor child!" said her papa, "she is worse off than I am. If I have but one hand left, she has two left hands."
During the early days he was very loquacious and jolly. But beginning with the third day he quieted down, somehow, although, as before, he kept close to the ladies and amused them. A half-sad, half-thoughtful expression began to flit across his face, and the face itself grew pale and thin. "Art thou ill?" I asked him. "Yes," he answered; "my head aches a little."
The face she turned to him was perplexed, half-sad, fond, a little pleased, and strangely compassionate. It was Kathleen Eppes who sat beside him; the six years were as utterly forgotten as the name of Magdalen's first lover. She was a girl again, listening with a heart that fluttered, I dare say to the wild talk, the mad dithyrambics of a big, blundering boy.
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