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Updated: May 28, 2025
Lawrence Newt's experience and knowledge of the world is aware that there are certain necessary expenses attendant upon elections such as printing, rent, lighting, warming, posting, etc. "In fact, sundries," said Abel, smiling with the black eyes. "Yes, precisely; sundries," answered Mr. Condor, "which sometimes swell to quite an inordinate figure. Your uncle, I presume, Mr.
In the shindy of life every body must have his head broken two or three times, and in our country 'tis a man's duty to fall on his feet. Such men as Abel Newt are not made to fail. I want to see you immediately. "Yours very truly, The moment Mrs. Dagon heard the dismal news of Boniface Newt's failure she came running round to see his wife.
"Which is Uncle Lawrence a fool, a bore, or a knave?" Mr. Boniface Newt's foot stopped, and, after looking at his son for a few moments, he answered: "Abel, your Uncle Lawrence is a singular man. He's a sort of exception to general rules. I don't understand him, and he doesn't help me to. When he was a boy he went to India and lived there several years.
The artist's face was a little raised as he spoke, as if he saw a stately vision. It was rapt in the intensity of fancy, and Lawrence knew perfectly well that he saw Hope Wayne's Endymion before him. But at the same moment his eye fell upon his nephew Abel sitting with a choice company of gay youths at another table. There was instantly a mischievous twinkle in Lawrence Newt's eye. "Eureka!
"I am glad to see Miss Wayne with you to-night," said Fanny. "My niece is her own mistress," replied Mrs. Dinks, in a sub-acid tone. Fanny's eyes grew blacker and sharper in a moment. An Indian whose life depends upon concealment from his pursuer is not more sensitive to the softest dropping of the lightest leaf than was Fanny Newt's sagacity to the slightest indication of discovery of her secret.
Amy Waring was certainly twenty-five, although Gabriel laughed and jeered at any such statement. But mamma and the Family Bible were too much for him. Lawrence Newt was certainly more than forty. But the Newt Family Bible was under a lock of which the key lay in Mrs. Boniface Newt's bureau, who, in a question of age, preferred tradition, which she could judiciously guide, to Scripture.
"Miss Amy," said Lawrence Newt, as they walked slowly toward Fulton Street, "I hope that gradually we may overcome this morbid state of mind in your aunt, and restore her to her home." Amy said she hoped so too, and walked quietly by his side. There was something almost humble in her manner. Her secret was her own no longer. Was it Lawrence Newt's? Had she indeed betrayed herself?
Those eyes of yours are the Darro eyes. Do you think I do not know the Darro eyes when I see them?" And he took Amy's hand, and said, "Whose daughter are you?" "My name is Amy Waring." "Oh! then you are Corinna's daughter. Your aunt Lucia married Mr. Bennet, and and " Lawrence Newt's voice paused and hesitated for a moment, "and there was another."
"Shall we go in again?" said Lawrence Newt. But they saw some one approaching, and before they arose, while they were still silent, and Hope's heart was like the dawning summer heaven, she suddenly heard Abel Newt's words, and watched him, speechlessly, as he and his companion glided by her into the darkness.
Newt's face underwent a series of expressions of subdued anger and disgust. "Now, then," said Mr. Hadley, laying the yard-stick upon the calicoes; "yes, as I thought, seven-eighths; too narrow sorry." There were thirty cases of those goods in the loft. Boniface Newt groaned in soul. The unconscious small boy, who had not understood the peculiar look, and had brought the yard-stick, stood by. "Mr.
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