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Updated: June 13, 2025
Then looking at the guileless and faithful being beside him, he softened once more. Was it not only more just, but more honourable, to treat this matter with candour? "You are alluding to the lady who was good enough to send for me the night you and Miss Lovegrove went with me to the play?" "Yes," the excellent George assented in a strangled voice. He wanted to know badly.
Miss Hart, meanwhile, had taken the unaccustomed post of honour beside her hostess upon the sofa. She was enjoying herself immensely. She had a conviction of marching to victory. "Yes," she said, "Mrs. Lovegrove, dear Peachie Porcher asked me just to run across as she has missed your last two afternoons, lest you should think her neglectful.
Now, whether because on this youthful Rumbullion's account Billy had suffered the pangs of that most terrible passion, jealousy, or from his natural enjoyment of playing practical jokes destructive of all dignity in his elders, Billy marched into the room, and, having shut the door behind him, paralyzed the crowded parlor by an announcement that Mr. Daniel Lovegrove was wanted.
Baddeley ... Parsons ... John Kemble. Baddeley, and the original Moses in the "School for Scandal." Of birth and feeling. Length of service. House of misrule. Hero of La Mancha. Compare a similar analysis of Don Quixote's character on page 264. Dodd. Lovegrove. The gardens of Gray's Inn.
At the sound of that at once unhuman and singularly confidential voice close beside him, George Lovegrove gave a guilty start. "Yes, the wife is quite right," he said, half aloud. "If you want to keep a happy mind there is very much of which it is as well to be ignorant."
"I think it very odd. Of course, she must have some meaning, and I wonder what it is. She seems to be changing her line. I am glad I stayed. I am afraid Rhoda is rather deceitful. I excuse George of deceit. I believe George to be true; but he is sadly influenced by Rhoda. I am rather sorry for George." "So she is, Mrs. Lovegrove," Eliza Hart resumed "Peachie's too full of heart, as I tell her.
Not that one, please, it is much too large. I prefer the smallest. I am not feeling hungry." "I should never call you much of a breakfast-eater, Serena," Mrs. Lovegrove observed in her comfortable purring voice, from behind the tea urn. She was desirous to pacify her guest. "Now I am rather hearty myself in the morning, always have been so.
But I prevented it. She overrates her strength, does Peachie, and to-day her neuralgia is cruel. 'I'll run across and account for you, I said to her. 'You just lie down and take a nap, and let the housemaid bring you up a little something with your tea, and take it early. 'It's not more nourishment I require, but less worry, Liz dear, she said. And so it is, Mrs. Lovegrove."
There he stood before her unmistakably proved, and herself unmistakably proving in what estimation she held his verses and bouquets. "Oh Billy, dear Billy! If you do love me, don't do so!" So exclaiming, she held out her hand, and Billy put the MS. into it with all the dignity of a wounded spirit. "Mr. Lovegrove," said Miss Pilgrim, "I don't know what to say."
And it was not without a sense of shock, as of rough descent to common things, of pity and of regret, that he recognised good George Lovegrove cruising thus, elephantine, among the roystering babes. Then Iglesias checked himself sternly.
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