Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !

Updated: June 18, 2025


This crochet work seemed to haunt her, for wherever it could be utilised, Anna, during those long years of willing service, had sewn it proudly on, in narrow edgings and in broad bands. Not only were all Mrs. Otway's and Rose's under-clothing trimmed with it, but it served as insertion for curtains, ran along the valance of each bed, and edged each pillow and cushion.

She broached the subject of grouse, addressing to Otway an ambiguous remark which led March to ask, with veiled surprise, whether he was a sportsman. "Mr. Otway's taste is for bigger game," she exclaimed, before Piers could reply. "He lives in hope of potting Russians on the Indian frontier." "Well, I can sympathise with him in that," said the large-limbed man, puzzled but smiling.

Otway's face radiant as Anna had never seen it during all the peaceful years they two had dwelt so near to one another, the poor old woman's heart softened. "Welcome!" she said, in German. "Welcome, my dear mistress, and all happiness be yours!" And then, after Rose had hurried off to Robey's, Mrs.

"The surgeon of Otway's regiment: the fellow who attacked me so virulently in the Philadelphian newspaper, on account of the part I felt it my duty to take, against one of the officers, a captain, for a scandalous breach of the privileges of hospitality, in seducing the wife of a very respectable man. This letter is by him.

Whereupon John Jacks became suddenly thoughtful, said, "Ah, I see," and with a pleasant smile turned to someone else. Only when it was too late did Piers remember that Mr. Jacks possibly had a private opinion about Jerome Otway's elder sons. He wished, above all things, that he could have accepted the invitation. But doubtless it would be repeated some other time.

A telegram from Piers brought down into Yorkshire the solicitor who had for many years been Jerome Otway's friend and adviser; he answered the young man's inquiries with full and decisive information. Mrs. Otway already knew the fact; whence her habitual coldness to Piers, and the silent acerbity with which she behaved to him at this juncture. "Mrs.

Guthrie sent her a message, saying how nicely she thought the bacon had been done. Mrs. Guthrie always liked the bacon to be very dry and curly, ma'am." He stopped for a moment, and Mrs. Otway's eyes filled with tears for the first time.

At times, there is no subtler compliment to a woman than to address her as if she were a man. It must be done involuntarily, as was the case with this utterance of Otway's. Irene rewarded him with a look such as he had never had from her, the look of rejoicing comradeship. "Indeed I should! Italy is becoming a misery to those who love her. Is no plot going on?

The butler says she took it very bravely and quietly, but I suppose it was that which which brought about her death." "What is the news?" Mrs. Otway's dream-impression vanished. She got up from the basket-chair in which she had been sitting, and her voice to herself sounded strangely loud and unregulated. "What is it, Rose? Why don't you tell me? Has he been killed?"

Her cousin also was mute for a moment. Their eyes met, and fell. "You remember Mr. Otway's brother?" said Olga, in an unsteady voice, and then ceased. "He? Daniel Otway?" Irene had turned pale; she spoke under her breath. At once there recurred to her the unexplained incident at Malvern Station.

Word Of The Day

221-224

Others Looking