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Updated: June 23, 2025
And he believed much the same process had taken place in his mother's feeling. She rarely spoke of Kitty; but when she did the doubt and soreness of her mind were plain. Her own life had grown very solitary. And in particular the old friendship between her and Polly Lyster had entirely ceased to be.
Eyes and ears were drawn perforce into the little whirlpool that she made, their owners yielding them, now with delight, now with repulsion. Mary Lyster, for instance, came in presently, fresh from a walk with Lady Edith Manley. She, too, had changed her dress.
To view five Lucas van Leydens in one gallery is not an everyday event. His engravings are rare enough that is, in good states; "ghosts" are aplenty and his paintings rarer. Here they are chiefly portraits. Rachel Ruysch, the flower painter, has a superior in Judith Lyster, a pupil of Frans Hals. She was born at Haarlem, or Zaandam, about 1600, and died 1660. She married the painter Jan Molener.
Miss Lyster was all enthusiasm, and she was tolerably well acquainted with the first principles of art. She made some remarks that pleased and interested his lordship. Then she was quite silent for some minutes, and afterward sighed deeply. Lord Ridsdale looked at her. The sigh had been such a profound one that he could not help taking some notice of it. "Are you tired?" he asked.
Allan Lyster was a wise general; he knew exactly when it was time to retreat. He would fain have lingered by her side talking to her, looking in her lovely face, but prudence told him that he had said enough. He looked across at the trees and signed to his sister, unseen and unknown to Miss Arleigh. Adelaide, quick to take the hint, joined them at once.
No doubt there would be many interesting battles before two such developed personalities became more or less one, but at least he had none of the petty and selfish and altogether detestable qualities of her father, her uncle, and Lyster Stone; and he was entirely human. And he was young and she was young.
So, in proportion as he ceased to importune her, she grew kinder to him. She talked to him about his pictures, and the progress he was making. He showed her sketches of pictures that he intended to paint, but the word love was never mentioned. The time came now for Miss Lyster to return to her school duties. She was not affected, but she felt the deepest sorrow.
"Who is that?" she inquired. Mary Lyster, with a sharp sense of interruption, replied that she believed the lady in question was the Grosville's French governess.
Mary Lyster, observing them, thought them a remarkable pair he in the very prime and heyday of brilliant youth, she so beautiful still, in spite of the filling-out of middle life which, indeed, was at the moment somewhat toned and disguised by the deep mourning, the sweeping crape and dull silk in which she was dressed. "I'm all right, dear," she said, quietly, putting her hand on his shoulder.
"Is it to be a large party?" he asked of his companion. "Oh! they always fill the house. A good many came down yesterday." "Well, I'm not curious," said Ashe, "except as to one person." "Who?" "Lady Kitty Bristol." Mary Lyster smiled. "Yes, poor child, I heard from the Grosville girls that she was to be here." "Why 'poor child'?" "I don't know. Quite the wrong expression, I admit.
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