United States or Belgium ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Stirling is as much better than " "That's it," said Lispenard. "Don't think I'm depreciating Peter. The trouble is that he is much too good a chap to make into a society or a lady's man." "I believe you are right. I don't think he cares for it at all." "No," said Lispenard. "Barkis is not willin'. I think he likes you, and simply goes to please you." "Do you really think that's it?"
It is very," Miss De Voe paused a moment, "it is very sad to love without being loved." And so ended Lispenard's comedy. Lispenard went back with Peter to the city. He gave his reason on the train: "You see I go back to the city occasionally in the summer, so as to make the country bearable, and then I go back to the country, so as to make the city endurable. I shall be in Newport again in a week.
The fashion now is toward plain, blunt unaffectedness; reverence is a polish of manners which implies insincerity, and the young men who are really reverent are most of them ashamed of it and work all the harder to conceal it." "They are not obliged to overexert themselves," replied Mr. Lispenard. "But perhaps you are right, my dear. I admit that I am out of sympathy with the younger generation.
"Because a man looks out for some sick kittens, ergo, he is a political saint. If you must take up with politicians, do take Republicans, for then, at least, you have a small percentage of chance in your favor that they are gentlemen." "Don't be a Pharisee, Lispenard," said Miss De Voe, utilizing Peter's rebuke. "Then don't trouble me with political questions.
You shall go back to your work, and I'll amuse myself with your flowers, and books, till you are ready to go uptown. Then we'll ride together." "Lispenard frightened me the other day, but you frighten me worse." "How?" "He said you would be a much lovelier woman at thirty than you are now." "And that frightened you?" laughed Leonore. "Terribly.
Dewitt Clinton, through the whole contest, never appeared at the poll, but observed the most shameful indfference and inactivity." The nomination of a ticket having been made and approved at a public meeting over which Anthony Lispenard presided, its effect upon both parties was tremendous. The character and standing of the candidates seemed a presage of victory.
"I love Peter as much as I love my own kin, with due apology to those of it who are present, but I must say that his whole career has been the worst case of sheer, downright luck of which I ever saw or heard." "Luck!" exclaimed Dorothy. "Yes, luck!" said Lispenard. "Look at it. He starts in like all the rest of us. And Miss Luck calls him in to look at a sick kitten die.
Peter interrupted. "I shall, if you will tell me I wronged you in supposing your questions to be malicious." Lispenard paid no attention to the interjection. "Otherwise," he finished, "we will consider our relations ended." He walked away. Peter wrote Lispenard that evening a long letter. He did not apologize in it, but it ended: "There should be no quarrel between us, for we ought to be friends.
He couldn't have meant anything by his remark about the questions." Peter dined the next evening with Lispenard, who in the course of the meal turned the conversation to Miss De Voe. Lispenard was curious to learn just what Peter knew of her. "She's a great swell, of course," he said incidentally. "I suppose so.
"I don't believe she cares a particle for them," said our old friend, the gentlemanly scoundrel; "but she worships them because they worship him." "Well," sighed Lispenard, "that's the way things go in life. There's that fellow gets worshipped by every one, from the Irish saloon-keeper up to Leonore. While look at me! I'm a clever, sweet-tempered, friendly sort of a chap, but nobody worships me.
Word Of The Day