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Updated: May 20, 2025
Williams, who sent me this morning notice of his going into the country tomorrow, but could not find him, but meeting with Frank Moore, my Lord Lambeth's man formerly, we, and two or three friends of his did go to a tavern, and there they drank, but I nothing but small beer.
"And if she is to meet us at her son's house the obligation was all the greater for her to call upon us." Bessie had not to wait long, and it appeared that Lord Lambeth's mother now accepted Mrs. Westgate's view of her duties.
And she went on to explain, while she continued that slow-paced promenade which enabled her well-adjusted skirts to display themselves so advantageously, that unfortunately in America there was no leisure class. It was Lord Lambeth's theory, freely propounded when the young men were together, that Percy Beaumont was having a very good time with Mrs.
"All these people; Lord Lambeth's family and friends." "How should you frighten them?" asked the young girl. "It wouldn't be I it would be you. It would frighten them to think that you should absorb his lordship's young affections." Bessie Alden, with her clear eyes still overshadowed by her dark brows, continued to interrogate. "Why should that frighten them?" Mrs.
"Ah," said Bessie, "I don't recognize that description. We have depended on him greatly my sister and I and he has never disappointed us." "He will disappoint you yet," said the duchess. Bessie gave a little laugh, as if she were amused at the duchess's persistency. "I suppose it will depend on what we expect of him." "The less you expect, the better," Lord Lambeth's mother declared.
"We are much obliged to you, Lord Lambeth," said Bessie. "What is Branches?" "It's a house in the country. I think you might like it." Willie Woodley and Mrs. Westgate at this moment were sitting in silence, and the young man's ear caught these last words of Lord Lambeth's. "He's inviting Miss Bessie to one of his castles," he murmured to his companion. Mrs.
Westgate's account of her sister, and he discovered for himself that the young lady was clever, and appeared to have read a great deal. She seemed very nice, though he could not make out, as Mrs. Westgate had said, she was shy. If she was shy, she carried it off very well. "Mr. Beaumont," she had said, "please tell me something about Lord Lambeth's family.
Williams, who sent me this morning notice of his going into the country tomorrow, but could not find him, but meeting with Frank Moore, my Lord Lambeth's man formerly, we, and two or three friends of his did go to a tavern, and there they drank, but I nothing but small beer.
His visitor, struck with the change of all he saw from the pomp of Lambeth, burst into tears and owned how deeply the sight affected him. "O my good lord," replied Sancroft, "rather rejoice with me, for now I live again." With Sancroft's departure opens a new age of Lambeth's ecclesiastical history.
But when he sat there within sight, laughing and talking with his customary good humor and simplicity, she measured it more accurately, and she felt acutely that if Lord Lambeth's position was heroic, there was but little of the hero in the young man himself. Then her imagination wandered away from him very far away; for it was an incontestable fact that at such moments he seemed distinctly dull.
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