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Updated: June 19, 2025
Miss Jennie Barton and her cousin Laura gave a sweet duo, in rather a tearing style, Jennie being a fast young lady everyhow; another lady sang a Scottish ballad as if it had been manipulated by Verdi; then one of the gentlemen said, "Mr. Norval, I hope you will lay your commands on your wife to sing for us." "I am sure she will do equally well if we all beg the favor of her."
He looked at her curiously, then answered, "I'll try: I'll begin by letting her set the hanging no, I mean the wedding day. Norval, I know you'll be good to our little girl better, likely as not, than the rest of us would have been had we got possession of her. Only remember, old fellow, the shadows must never come to her through you, or some of us will make a shadow of you.
Do you dare to beard the lion in his den? Withdraw the dagger that you have aimed at my breast, or I will not hold myself responsible for the consequences. Played out, with a million dollars in your pocket? Played out, with wealth pouring in in mighty waves? Whose name is Norval still? Whose are these Grampian Hills?
Percy's cousin, Harry Barton, was there to welcome them, having come round from his hotel for the purpose. "Why, Norval," said he they were old acquaintances "you've won our bone of contention, after all. I wonder what we shall do, now that Percy's safely landed out of our reach? You're a brave man to dare our rage." "Don't, Harry!" said Percy, putting her hand on his arm.
Mademoiselle de Cardoville took the pen that Georgette presented to her, signed the letter, and enclosed in it an order upon her banker, which was expressed thus: "Please pay M. Norval, on demand without grace, the sum of money he may require for expenses incurred on my account.
Of this Fanny writes: "He used to declaim so often, in a loud, solemn voice, 'My name is Norval on the Grampian Hills my father feeds his flocks, that I naturally received the impression that these flocks and hills were part of my paternal grandfather's estate.
Belcher seemed to find that his name was as distinctly "Norval" in New York as in Sevenoaks, and that his "Grampian Hills" were movable eminences that stood around and smiled upon him wherever he went. Retiring to his room to enjoy in quiet his morning cigar and to look over the papers, his eye was attracted, among the "personals," to an item which read as follows: "Col.
RAISIN, OVRO'OM, is a distinguished Yiddish writer of fiction now living in New York City. Ascetic, The. RICHARDSON, NORVAL. Born at Vicksburg, Miss., 1877. Educated at Lawrenceville School, N. J., and Southwestern Presbyterian University. Secretary and treasurer Lee Richardson & Company. In diplomatic service since 1909 at Havana, Copenhagen, and Rome.
Directly in the teeth of all probability, he attributes the bulk of the romantic Scottish ballads to Lady Wardlaw, who wrote "Hardyknute." Without going very deeply into the matter, Mr. Norval Clyne has put in a clever plea in arrest of judgment.
Norval dislikes your going, and you're bound to stay." "Oh, nonsense, Mrs. Keller! Of course he don't care particularly, as I am going to be away but one night, and he's got to spend all my life with me;" and her face saddened, he thought.
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