Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 9, 2025
Vane's hand, and, courtesying to all the company, she hastily left the room. Sir Charles Pomander followed; but he was not quick enough. She got a start, and purposely avoided him, and for three days neither the public nor private friends saw this poor woman's face. Mr. and Mrs. Vane prepared to go also; but Mrs. Vane would thank good Mr. Triplet and Mrs. Triplet for their kindness to her.
Putting this and that together, he was led to hope and believe she was there, making her toilet, perhaps, and her arrival at present unknown. "Do you expect no one else?" said he, with feigned carelessness, to Mr. Vane. "No," said Mr. Vane, with real carelessness. "It must be so! What fortune!" thought Pomander. Soaper. "Mr. Cibber looks no older than he did five years ago." Snarl.
Vane turned the letter in her hand, and her eye became instantly glazed; the seal was unbroken! She gave a sharp cry of agony, like a wounded deer. She saw Pomander no longer; she was alone with her great anguish. "I had but my husband and my God in the world," cried she. "My mother is gone. My God, have pity on me! my husband does not love me."
This time it was Hunsdon, who was in a desperate hurry to see his master. "Where is Sir Charles Pomander, my honest fellow?" said he. "In the garden, my Jack-a-dandy!" said Burdock, furiously. In the garden went Hunsdon. His master all whose senses were playing sentinel saw him, and left the company to meet him. "She is in the house, sir." "Good! Go vanish!"
The driver, footman, and two outriders donned their liveries, in which they were the envy of all the other servants, and the coach was driven around to the front of the house, from which presently emerged Madame Stewart, in a stately gown of flowered calamanco, her fan and gold pomander in her hand.
The rich fragrance of the gold pomander wrapped with it filled the air like a vivifying elixir. Phillida gathered up the braid with a cry of envious rapture. "Oh! The gorgeous thing! How do some lucky girls have hair like that? If it was unbound, my two hands could not hold it all. What a pity to have cut it! Look, Ethan, how it crinkles and glitters."
Then it was clear nothing but his ignorance could have placed her at the summit of her art. Still he clung to his enthusiasm for her. He drew Pomander aside. "What a simplicity there is in Mrs. Woffington!" said he; "the rest, male and female, are all so affected; she is so fresh and natural. They are all hot-house plants; she is a cowslip with the May dew on it."
"Forgive me!" said poor Vane. "My ang my sorrow that such an angel should be a monster of deceit." He could say no more. They walked to the shop. "How she peeped, this way and that," said Pomander, "sly little Woffy!
She wore a cloak of black stamped satin lined with black taffetas and trimmed in front with sable, with a long train and sleeves hanging to the ground; the buttons were of jet in the shape of acorns and surrounded with pearls, her collar in the Italian style; her doublet was of figured black satin, and underneath she wore stays, laced behind, in crimson satin, edged with velvet of the same colour; a gold cross hung by a pomander chain at her neck, and two rosaries at her girdle: it was thus she entered the great hall where the scaffold was erected.
"Better than catnip, Bagheera?" I questioned. "You wouldn't bolt from it, either, would you?" Phillida's battered pet relaxed luxuriously, by way of answer, sniffed toward the hand I withdrew, and composed itself to sleep. I put the pomander in my waistcoat pocket. I could not deny as mere nightmare the Thing which had visited me. Better confront that fact! It was real. Only, real in what sense?
Word Of The Day
Others Looking