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Updated: June 3, 2025
"As for me, I sit up and read the 'Constitutionnel. My wife lets me sleep at night and in the morning too; she wouldn't come into my room for all the world." "It's just the other way here," replied Jeanette. "Madame sits up with the company playing cards; sometimes there are sixteen of them in the salon; Monsieur goes to bed at eight o'clock, and we get up at daylight "
The Duke opened the door. "You here, Jeanette! What is it?" "My godfather," she said very low, "the young ladies are getting up now, and I think they are going to walk in the grove to the right of the Chateau." "They are going ... alone?" "Certainly. No one else is awake, but they may be going to meet their lovers." "Why did you come to tell me yourself, instead of sending my man?"
And once Ellen came from among the moving shadows of the wheels and drew Jeanette from beneath a great knife that fell at her feet, and when Daddy Mason saw what had happened he fainted, poor man, and made her promise never, never, so long as she lived, to tell Grandma Mason.
"But we are not afraid of those dreadful things, are we Jeanette?" "Of course not, but somehow Belle always makes me feel uncomfortable, when she begins to talk on temperance. She says she is terribly in earnest, and I think she is." "Miss Gordon and I were great friends once," said Charles Romaine, as a shadow flitted over his face, and a slight sigh escaped his lips. "Were you?
Over one hundred years ago it was that, from the walls of this rare old home at Rye, Westchester County, the grace of these ladies on canvas caught James Cooper's thought to use them, by description, in his coming book, "The Spy." "Jeanette Peyton," the maiden aunt of Cooper's story, owes her mature charm to the portrait of Mary Duyckinck, wife of Peter Jay.
Jett loved to pinch together with thumb and forefinger. "Cover her up quick, Em, it's chilly this morning." Quite without precedent, Jeanette puckered up to cry, holding herself rigidly to Mr. Jett's dressing gown. "Why, Jeanette baby, don't you want to go to Aunty Em?" "No! No! No!" Trying to ingratiate herself back into Mr. Jett's arms. "Baby, you'll take cold. Come under covers with Aunty Em?"
Lucien was without a shirt for Marengo had torn it, and it was now draggled, wet, and worthless. This was a staple joke for Francois. Jeanette came in for a share of their badinage, as Lucien now remembered that he had tied her head within a foot of the tree, and of course she would be all this time without eating a morsel.
She is one of the cleverest women I ever knew, is Helga Strawn, almost as clever as Jeanette Compton. Quite as clever, perhaps, but Jeanette has the bulge on her in that she's got her eyes on Helga all the time that Helga has her eyes on Hume." "Who's Jeanette Compton?" "She's Helga Strawn's new maid. The old one quit; bribed her myself. You'll find the item in the bill later on.
Now if on his wedding night, he can not abstain, I have very grave fears for Jeanette's future." "Perhaps you are both right, but I never looked at things in that light before, and I know that a magnificent fortune can melt like snow in the hands of a drunken man." "I wish you much joy," rang out a dozen voices, as Jeanette approached them. "Oh Jeanette, you just look splendid! and Mr.
He taught for a time in the Charlotte Hall Institute, Maryland, and then removed to Ohio. He acted one year as professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy in Marietta College. He studied medicine in Cincinnati and received the degree of Doctor of Medicine from the Ohio Medical College in 1843. On June 1, 1848, he married Jeanette Linsley, daughter of Rev. Dr.
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