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My visit was to yourself," said the stranger, evidently enjoying the incognito she had kept, for her black eyes sparkled with fun. "I am happy to see you, madam," again stammered the troubled Meliora. "I thought you would be I came to surprise you. My dear Miss Vanbrugh, have you really forgotten me? Then allow me to re-introduce myself. My name is Christal Manners."
"Ay, ay," was the muttered answer, as Mrs. Manners clutched the child a little, thin-limbed, cunning-eyed girl, of eight or ten years old and pressed her to her breast, with a strain more like the gripe of a lioness than a tender woman's clasp. Then she fell back exhausted, and took no more notice of anybody. Meliora forgot Mr.
Do you not rejoice, my pupil!" "I do, indeed, my dear and noble master." "And, brother, brother you will be very rich. The price you asked for the 'Alcestis' was a thousand pounds," said Meliora. He smiled bitterly. "You women always think of money." "But for your sake only, dear Michael," cried his sister; and her tearful eyes spoke the truth.
And thus he is, from time to time, in the state of that unhappy complainer, Video meliora, proboque, deteriora sequor: which sentence, allowed for true, and made good by constant experience, may in this, and possibly no other way, be easily made intelligible. Because the Removal of Uneasiness is the first Step to Happiness.
"Video meliora proboque I mean, bring it me hot, with sugar, John," he said to waiter. "I would have some more, too, only I don't want it," said Pen. "It does not seem to me, Warrington, that we are much better than our neighbours." And Warrington's last glass having been despatched, the pair returned to their chambers.
If the old painter of Woodford Cottage was an ascetic and a misanthrope never was the "milk of human kindness" so redundant in any human heart as in that of his excellent little sister, Miss Meliora Vanbrugh.
"No: let me grow old, die, and be buried under the shadow of the eternal City." "He will never come back again never," said Miss Vanbrugh, looking at Olive with a vague bewilderment. "He will leave this pretty cottage, and me, and everything." There was a dead silence, during which poor 'Meliora sat plaiting her white apron in fold after fold, as was her habit when in deep and perplexed thought.
"Video meliora, proboque, I see the better, and approve it; deteriora sequor, I follow after the worse; 't is that natural dislike to what is good, pure, holy, and true, that inrooted selfishness, totally insensible to the claims of" Here the worthy man was interrupted by Miss Letty. "Do come, if you can, grandpapa," said the young girl; "here is a poor old black woman wants to see you so much!"
The custom of the church is not enough to pitch on, and it is found oftentimes expedient to change a custom of the church. Nullus pudor est ad meliora transire, saith Ambrose to the Emperor Valentinian. And again, Corrigendum est quod illicite admittitur, aut a praedecessoribus admissum invenitur. A politic writer admonisheth retinere antiqua, only with this caution, Si proba.
Oh, she was a grand, beautiful woman, like an Eastern queen. You remember it was she from whom Mr. Vanbrugh painted the 'Cleopatra. What an eye she had, and what a glorious mouth!" cried Olive, waxing enthusiastic. "Poor thing! Her beauty is sadly wasting now," said Meliora. "She seems to be slowly dying, and I shouldn't wonder if it were of sheer starvation; those models earn so little.
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