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I watched the moment when he was at the height of his hopes, which I had purposely encouraged to produce my intended effect, and then asked him if he did not know Captain St. Ives? Impudent as the fellow is, his countenance for a moment was fixed, his mouth open, and his eye struggling to get rid of alarm, that it might begin its enquiries. I followed up my blow by adding
"He called a mass meeting to protest against the dismissal of a teacher." "Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "you will conduct me to that meeting. I will get my cloak." Mr. Ives wasted no time in the interval, and he fairly ran out into the office. Miss Lucretia Penniman was in town, and would attend the mass meeting. Now, indeed, it was to be a mass meeting.
"Oh, take me home!" sobbed Amelia Sanders. "Take you home? How the dickens be I to take you home?" Tummels demanded. "I've got to follow that villain into St. Ives if he goes so far, and stick to him like a shadow." So Amelia Sanders trudged it back to Porthleven, calling herself every name but what she was christened: and Phoby Geen trudged it fore to St.
So it is when the literary deities, vestal or otherwise, return to their Stratfords. There are generally surprises in store for the people they have had on their knees, and for others. "Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "I want to see the prudential committee for the village district." "The prudential committee!" Mr. Ives fairly shrieked the words in his astonishment.
"Four or five miles up that cape are the Boskednan Circles and the Dawns-un, old Druidic stone temples. Just across the peninsula is St. Ives, where the virgin Hya appeared miraculously. It is really regrettable, Madden, that you are leaving England before you tour Cornwall. A wonderful little island, England. A land to live for or to die for, God willing."
Wentworth before I got your message, you know." Trix drew herself up. "Of course, if Mrs. Wentworth " she began. "I'm very sorry," said Jack. Then Miss Queenborough, forgetting as I hope or choosing to disregard my presence, leant forward and asked in her most coaxing tones, "Don't you ever forget a promise, Mr. Ives?" Jack looked at her.
Then came the sharp clink of clashing steel, and a roar like that of an angry lion "Notre Dame Du Guesclin! St. Ives! St. Ives!" The bow-man pulled back the bolt of the door, and thrust out the headpiece at the end of the bow. A clash, the clatter of the steel-cap upon the ground, and, ere the man who struck could heave up for another blow, the archer had passed his sword through his body.
An evening when the fiery sun forebodes a stormy morning, and the black-based clouds rise, like mountains with hoary tops, to tell me tempests are brewing! These give emotion and delight supreme! Oh for a mistress such as I could imagine, and such as Anna St. Ives moulded by me could make! One that could vary her person, her pleasures, and her passions, purposely to give mine variety!
Gamaliel Ives in the town, belonging to an old Brampton family, who would have been the first citizen if that other first citizen had not, by his rise to wealth and power, so completely overshadowed him. Mr. Ives owned a small mill on Coniston Water below the town. He fairly bubbled over with civic pride, and he was an authority on all matters pertaining to Brampton's history.
From afar, from whence nor eye nor tongue could tell, came a foul raven croaking. The village of Hendred, of which Mr. Ives was the parson, lay about two miles beyond Wancote, in a low valley nestling under a great wave of the downs.
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