Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 11, 2025
If after all the toils of dull insipid life I could return and lay me down by thee, Herculean labours would be soft and easy the harsh fatigues of war, the dangerous hurries of affairs of State, the business and the noise of life, I could support with pleasure, with wondrous satisfaction, could treat Myrtilla too with that respect, that generous care, as would become a husband.
No, no, Myrtilla, I forgive your love, but never can your poor dissimulation. One drives you but from the heart you value not, but the other to my eternal contempt. One deprives me but of thee, Myrtilla, but the other entitles me to a beauty more surprising, renders thee no part of me; and so leaves the lover free to Sylvia, without the brother.
Her name was very like her life, one-half of which might be described as Myrtilla, the other half as Williamson. She was Myrtilla during the day, dabbling with her water-colours, her flowers, or her books; but at six o'clock each afternoon, with the sound of aggressive masculine boots in the hall, her life suddenly changed with a sigh to Williamson.
All which you had an art to order in so engaging a manner, that it charm'd all the beholders, both sexes were undone with looking on you; and I have heard a witty man of your party swear, your face gain'd more to the League and association than the cause, and has curs'd a thousand times the false Myrtilla, for preferring Cesario!
"We were just talking of you, dear," said Henry. "This is my friend, Mrs. Williamson, 'Myrtilla, of whom you've often heard me speak." "Oh, yes, I've often heard of Mrs. Williamson," said Angel, not of course suffering the irony of her thought to escape into her voice. "And I've heard no less of Miss Flower," said Mrs.
"Dear, would you like a hot-water bottle, and your supper in bed?" inquired Grandmother, breaking in on these meditations.... Oh, it was a long time since Grandmother had been Myrtilla at seventeen! Joy looked at her wistfully once more. "No, thank you, Grandmother," she said decidedly. "I feel very well, thank you. I'll be down to supper as soon as I've changed my frock."
It was perhaps a day hardly less interesting for Myrtilla than for the young people themselves when she had first met Henry and Esther Mesurier. Before, in the dull bourgeois society into which Williamson had transplanted her from London, she had found none with whom she dared be her natural Myrtilla. There she was expected to be Williamson to the bone.
Oh save my life, and tell me what indifferent impulse obliged thee to these nuptials: had Myrtilla been recommended or forc'd by the tyranny of a father into thy arms, or for base lucre thou hadst chosen her, this had excus'd thy youth and crime; obedience or vanity I could have pardon'd, but oh 'twas love; love, my Philander! thy raving love, and that which has undone thee was a rape rather than marriage; you fled with her.
Williamson, "not indeed from this faithless boy here, for I haven't seen him for so long that I've had to humble myself at last and call, but from Esther." Myrtilla loved the transparent face, pulsing with light, flushing or fading with her varying mood, answering with exquisite delicacy to any advance and retreat of the soul within.
And can Philander's love set no higher value on me than base poor prostitution? Is that the price of his heart? Oh how I hate thee now! or would to heaven I could. Tell me not, thou charming beguiler, that Myrtilla was to blame; was it a fault in her, and will it be virtue in me? And can I believe the crime that made her lose your heart, will make me mistress of it?
Word Of The Day
Others Looking