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Updated: June 25, 2025
"She has gone and taken the life that was not hers to take," sobbed Joyce, "and I say she has been driven to it. She has not been allowed to indulge a will of her own, poor thing, since she came to East Lynne; in her own house she has been less free than either of her servants.
Little thought Lady Isabel that that very piano was Mr. Carlyle's, and not hers. The earl coughed, and exchanged a smile and a glance with his guest. Mr. Kane was the organist of St. Jude's church, a man of embarrassment and sorrow, who had long had a sore fight with the world. When he arrived at East Lynne, the following day, dispatched by Mr.
It was impossible for him to move away from East Lynne. Mr. Carlyle assured him he was only too pleased that he should remain as long as might be convenient, and the earl expressed his acknowledgments; he hoped soon to be re-established on his legs. But he was not.
How truly did Edward Lynne feel that she indeed would be a crown of glory to his old age, as well as to his manhood's prime! The scene for there are "scenes" wherever human passion runs wild ended by Mrs. Myles working herself into the belief that she was the most ill-used old lady in the British dominions.
Carlyle was not of rank equal to her own, she scarcely remembered; East Lynne seemed a very fair settlement in life, and in point of size, beauty and importance, it was far superior to the house she was now in. She forgot that her position in East Lynne as Mr.
"I think you must be becoming a convert to the theory of dreams yourself, Barbara; you are so very earnest," smiled Mr. Carlyle. "No, not to dreams; but I am earnest for my dear brother Richard's sake." "That Thorn does not appear in a hurry again to favor West Lynne with his " Mr. Carlyle paused, for Barbara had hurriedly laid her hand upon his arm, with a warning gesture.
Many a time, since this appearance of his at West Lynne, have I been obliged to lay violent control upon myself, or I should have horsewhipped him within an ace of his life." "If you horsewhipped him to death he would only meet his deserts."
Coeval, you see, with the arrival of the ex-captain, Levison, at East Lynne, all the jealous feeling, touching her husband and Barbara Hare, was renewed, and with greater force than ever.
"I believe it was the frost killed them; I don't know what else it could have been. You may remember those bitter days we had in January; they died then." "You are very good to take care of them all this while. How is East Lynne looking? Dear East Lynne! Is it occupied?" "Not yet. I have spent some money upon it, and it repays the outlay."
I never heard of him, or saw him, until he came to West Lynne this last spring, as Sir Francis Levison, to oppose Mr. Carlyle. Richard Hare had also disappeared had never been seen or heard of, and most people supposed he was dead. To what end then should I confess? Perhaps only to be suspected myself.
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