Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 8, 2025
"Since Miss Jones has been gone for her holiday the children are quite unmanageable," she observed. "Oh, it is such a good sign!" cried Mrs. Mostyn heartily; "it shows they are so thoroughly well. Mr. Lyndsay, why have you chosen that uncomfortable chair? Come and sit over beside me, if you are not afraid of the fire. And now, Jane, my love, tell me how you are getting on at Weald."
"We are not allowed to take him upstairs," explained Harold, "so we thought he might stay with you and Mr. Lyndsay for a little, till Charles comes for him." "If you would let him lie upon your dress, Aunt Cissy," suggested Denis; "he would like that."
This idea became exquisitely painful to the high-spirited Caroline, but it could not counterpoise the conviction of the greater pain she should occasion to the breast that so confided in her faith, if that faith were broken. Step by step the intrigue against the absent one proceeded. Mrs. Lyndsay thoroughly understood the art of insinuating doubts.
Lyndsay, strange as it sounds, the mere sight of that face made me realise in an instant what I had read and heard thousands of times, and what my mother and Henrietta had told me over and over again about the utter nothingness of earthly aims and comforts of what in an ordinary way is called life.
It is considered too shocking for our modern notions. I have no patience with such weakness, such folly worse than folly. It seems to me even more wrong to try and hide this terrible danger from ourselves and from others than to deny it altogether, as some poor deluded souls do. Mr. Lyndsay, have you ever realised what the place of torment will be like?" "Yes; once, Mrs. Mostyn."
But, alas! the clock was checking the flying minutes and chanting the departing quarters, and presently the dressing-bell rang, Mrs. de Noël stirred, gave a long sigh, and, plainly from the fulness of her heart and of the thoughts she had so long been following, said "Mr. Lyndsay, is it not strange? So many people from the great world come and ask me if there is any God.
Lyndsay was, you know, a daughter of Seymour Vipont, who was for so many years in the Administration, with a fair income from his salary, and nothing out of it. She married one of the Scotch Lyndsays, good family, of course, with a very moderate property. She was left a widow young, with an only child, Caroline. Came to town with a small jointure. The late Lady Montfort was very kind to her.
Yet it wore the consecration of time and authority! What if it were true? "Mr. Lyndsay," said Denis at my elbow, "Aunt Eleanour has sent me to fetch you to tea. Mr. Lyndsay, do you hear? Why do you look so strange?" He caught my hand anxiously as he spoke, and by that little human touch the spell was broken. The phantom vanished; and, looking into the child's eyes, I felt it was a lie.
But my belief is, that he is quite aware by this time how foolish such a marriage would be, and would thank you heartily if, at the year's end, he found himself free, and you happily disposed of elsewhere," &c., &c. The drama advanced. Mrs. Lyndsay evinced decided pulmonary symptoms. Her hectic cough returned; she could not sleep; her days were numbered a secret grief.
Some reflection about the certainty of death, or other disagreeable subjects, is sure to follow!" "Death! No, Dick not now. Marriage-bells and joy, Dick! We shall have a wedding!" "What! You will marry at last! And it must be that beautiful Caroline Lyndsay! It must it must! You can never love another! You know it, my dear, dear master. I shall see you, then, happy before I die."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking