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Updated: May 7, 2025
Great, tall, raw-boned Kentuckians, attired in hunting-shirts, and trailing their loose joints over a vast extent of territory, with the easy lounge peculiar to the race, rifles stacked away in the corner, shot-pouches, game-bags, hunting-dogs, and little negroes, all rolled together in the corners, were the characteristic features in the picture.
The pilots and boatmen lounge about, apparently amusing themselves with pipes and telescopes; they appear to have no object in life but to kill time; they seem a set of idle hulking fellows; nevertheless, I should say, speaking roughly, that at least the half of these men are heroes!
The play-house was too cold to use now, and Mrs. Dean objected to having it all moved down to her sewing-room. But Mr. Theodore's room had a delightful grate, a big old lounge, a generous centre-table where the girls used to play house under the cover, and such piles of books everywhere, so many pictures on the wall, such curious pipes and swords and trophies from different lands.
But don't get used to this cadet quarters aren't anywhere near this nice, and neither are junior officers' quarters. Which you probably already know." "Yes." Corina looked around. It was more like a small apartment than a cabin, with the part they were in both lounge and office.
I think that we understand each other." He rose to his feet. "I am sorry for our failure, Stella," he said. "Pray do not hesitate to write to me at any time if my advice or assistance can be of service." He passed down the lounge, more crowded now than when he had entered. A very fashionably dressed young woman, one of a smart tea party, leaned back in her chair as he passed and held out her hand.
But he only said sadly, "You oughtn't to have brought her, Furny. But I suppose you couldn't stop her." I said, No, I couldn't stop her. But I hadn't brought her. She had brought me. We sat on till the lounge was open to the guests of the hotel. And when the war-correspondents began to drop in I saw that Jevons was uneasy. "D'you mind if I turn in, old man?" he said.
Pleasant fellow, Hargate," he added, as the footsteps retreated down, the passage. "Well, my lad, what's the matter with you? You look depressed." Lord Dreever flung himself on to the lounge, and groaned hollowly. "Damn! Damn!! Damn!!!" he observed. His glassy eye met Jimmy's, and wandered away again. "What on earth's the matter?" demanded Jimmy.
They were the first signs of light and comfort she had discovered, and now they paled before the sun. Thus she sat by the open window in the library and watched with a prayer in her heart. She looked at the mantel clock. Half past four. In half an hour the house would be stirring. All was now safe. She could return to her room. She rose and approached the sleeper on the lounge.
Bored and lonely, she would creep into bed beside Julia, after turning the front-room light down to a bead, and flinging over the "bed lounge," upon which George spent the night, the musty sheets and blankets and the big soggy pillows. But George, meanwhile, would have found warmth, brightness, companionship, and good food.
One could lounge beside it contentedly, knowing that the stinging frost was drying the snow to dusty powder outside. That heightened the contrast, for Agatha pictured the little schooner bound fast in the Northern ice, and then two or three travel-worn men crouching in a tiny tent buffeted by an Arctic gale. She could see the poles bend, and the tricings strain.
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