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A more popular manner than Lord Vargrave's it is impossible to conceive. Frank and prepossessing, even when the poor and reckless Mr. Ferrers, without rank or reputation, his smile, the tone of his voice, his familiar courtesy, apparently so inartificial and approaching almost to a boyish bluntness of good-humour, were irresistible in the rising statesman and favoured courtier. Mrs.
"But, Tom," pleaded his wife, "such a grand lady as that! one you go and read your poetry to! What harm can there be in your poor little wife helping to make a dress for a lady like that?" "I tell you, Letty, I don't choose my wife to do such a thing for the greatest lady in the land! Good Heavens! if it were to come to the ears of the staff! It would be the ruin of me!
"One day Master Don said 'they was going' and his father picked him up on his lap and he said to him, said he, 'Don, never say was, say were. The poor lamb was so startled that he never forgot, and I can't make him change for the life of me." "Don't try," Janet laughed; "it's awfully cunning to hear him say were! I hope he never changes."
"I am very sure you are better," said the husband, who had not stirred from his seat, "for we have had a mass celebrated, and it cost us a large sum." At that coarse and stupid expression I glanced at Madame Pierson; her swollen eyes, her pallor, her attitude, all clearly expressed fatigue and the exhaustion of long vigils. "Ah! my poor man!" said the farmer's wife, "may God reward you!"
Human love, the purest and fairest of virtues, is the sublime gift, the noble heritage, he left behind to his brothers in sorrow. My heart, the poor heart under this black doublet, this heart was created for human love, this soul thirsted, with all its powers, to help its neighbors and lighten their sorrows.
It is easy enough for dried-up egotists, withered intellectuals, to sneer at this love of life in the young, and their despair at the loss of it; but it was not alone their ruined, blasted youth that pressed on these poor soldiers, though that was terrible enough the worst was not to know the reason for this sacrifice, and the poisonous suspicion that it was all in vain.
Harewood, "though Alda is very much disappointed that she is not having a season in London." "She will not take it," said Geraldine. "She insists that she prefers Uncle Clem to all the fine folk she might meet; and after all, poor Marilda's acquaintance are not exactly the upper ten thousand." "Poor Marilda!
George was uneasy and out of spirits at not hearing from Susan for several months, and Robinson was for indulging him in everything. Poor George! he could not even find his river of quartz.
I am an out-and-out aristocrat and would rather be poor and be jostled by nobility than be rich and brush against Tom, Dick and Harry and have to bow to their wives."
Ormiston let his glance rest on the somewhat showy figure. "I doubt if William has discovered it either," he remarked. "Oh! as to your poor brother William, heaven only knows what he has or has not discovered! Now, Helen, this conversation becomes undesirable. You've asked innumerable questions about your cousin. Go and make acquaintance with him.
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