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He hurried along the passage, with his eyes fixed upon the ground and his hand clenched. "What ho! Linden, my good fellow; why, you look as if all the ferocity of the great Figg were in your veins," cried a good-humoured voice. Clarence started, and saw the young and high-spirited Duke of Haverfield. "Are you going behind the scenes?" said his grace.
Lord Borodaile flung himself on one of the sofas with a listless and discontented air. The experienced Frenchwoman saw that there was a cloud on his brow. "My dear friend," said she, in her own tongue, "you seem vexed: has anything annoyed you?" "No, Cecile, no. By the by, who supped with you last night?" "Oh! the Duke of Haverfield, your friend."
Jardine a very recognizable person; just as, had a subtle charlotte russe been brought up to lunch in company with the stewed rhubarb they would have eaten it without comment and hardly been aware that it wasn't an everyday milk-pudding. "Did you and Mrs. Lavington and Evelyn and Mrs. Haverfield find much to talk of after lunch?" Gregory asked, as he motored Mrs.
I shall be proud to have that honour," said Borodaile, with sparkling eyes; "will Lady Westborough be also of the party?" "No, poor Lady St. George is very ill, and I have taken the opportunity to ask only men." "You have done wisely, my lord," said Borodaile, secum multa revolvens; "and I assure you I wanted no hint to remind me of your invitation." Here the Duke of Haverfield joined them.
By the by, shall you go with him, or will you not rather stay at home, and enjoy your new fortunes, hunt, race, dine out, dance, vote in the House of Commons, and, in short, do all that an Englishman and a gentleman should do? Ornamento e splendor del secolo nostro. Write me a line whenever you have nothing better to do. And believe me, Most truly yours, HAVERFIELD.
"And after your Sargent," said Gregory, "you must have been pained by that portrait of Mrs. Haverfield in the drawing-room." "Mrs. Lavington pointed it out to me specially," said Karen, laughing, "and told me that it had been in the Academy. What a sad thing; with all those eyelashes! And yet opposite to it hung the beautiful Gainsborough of a great-grandmother. Mrs.
The Duke of Haverfield and Lord Ulswater continued their friendship through life; and the letters of our dear Flora to her correspondent, Eleanor, did not cease even with that critical and perilous period to all maiden correspondents, Marriage. And Isabel Mordaunt? Ah! not in these pages shall her history be told even in epitome.
Listen to me, and then stay at your host's or order your swiftest steed, as seems most meet to you. You said rightly that Miss Trevanion, now her Grace of Haverfield, was the intimate friend of Lady Flora Ardenne. I have often talked to her namely, Eleanor, not Lady Flora about you, and was renewing the conversation yesterday, when your letter, accidentally lying before me, reminded me of you.
Lord Borodaile flung himself on one of the sofas with a listless and discontented air. The experienced Frenchwoman saw that there was a cloud on his brow. "My dear friend," said she, in her own tongue, "you seem vexed: has anything annoyed you?" "No, Cecile, no. By the by, who supped with you last night?" "Oh! the Duke of Haverfield, your friend."
By the by, shall you go with him, or will you not rather stay at home, and enjoy your new fortunes, hunt, race, dine out, dance, vote in the House of Commons, and, in short, do all that an Englishman and a gentleman should do? Ornamento e splendor del secolo nostro. Write me a line whenever you have nothing better to do. And believe me, Most truly yours, HAVERFIELD.
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