Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 14, 2025
"You must think first of Hester," said Catharine, with gentle steadiness, putting her arm round the bent shoulders. "I am sure the Rector would tell you that. She is your first your sacredest duty." Alice Puttenham shivered as though something in Catharine's tender voice reproached her. "Oh, I know my poor Hester! My life has set hers all wrong.
The shock of that miniature in Hester's hands had just turned the scale; endurance had given way. The quick footsteps receded. Yet she could do nothing to arrest them. Her mind floated in darkness. Presently out of the darkness emerged a sound, a touch a warm hand on hers. "Dear dear Miss Puttenham!" "Yes." Her voice seemed to herself a sigh the faintest from a great distance.
But go into the cottages here talk to the people ask them, not what he believes, but what he is what he has been to them. Get one of them, if you can, to credit this absurdity!" "The Rector's intimate friendship with Miss Puttenham has long been an astonishment sometimes a scandal to the village!" exclaimed Barron, doggedly. Flaxman stared at him in a blank amazement, then flushed.
He went on to give an account, as guarded as he could make it, of Hester's disappearance from the family with whom she was boarding, of the anxiety of her relations, and the search that he and Miss Puttenham had made. His conscience was often troubled. Vaguely, his mind was pronouncing itself all the while "It is time now the truth were known. It is better it should be known."
It must be at least, and at best, two or three hours before the party reappeared; it might be much more. They turned from useless speculation to give all their thoughts to Alice Puttenham. Too exhausted to speak or think, she was passive in their hands.
But to Meynell, poor Alice Puttenham poured out all the bitterness of her heart: "It seems to me that the little hold I had over her, and the small affection she had for me when we arrived here, are both now less than they were. She resents being watched and managed more than ever. One feels there is a tumult in her soul to which we have no access.
and placing Gower, with a degree of judgment not reached by his and Chaucer's immediate successors, in his proper relation of poetic rank to his younger but greater contemporary. To these names should be added that of George Puttenham if he was indeed the author of the grave and elaborate treatise, dedicated to Lord Burghley, on "The Art of English Poesy."
But we must remember at the same time that all these persons have been in a conspiracy together to impose a falsehood on their neighbours; and that for many years we have been admitting Miss Puttenham to our house and our friendship to the companionship of our daughters in complete ignorance of her character." "Oh, poor thing! poor thing!" said the Bishop hastily. "The thought of her haunts me.
Spenser calls him "the summer's nightingale," and George Puttenham, in his Art of English Poesy , finds his "vein most lofty, insolent, and passionate." Puttenham used insolent in its old sense, uncommon; but this description is hardly less true, if we accept the word in its modern meaning.
"Mary!" said Miss Puttenham. The girl approached. Meynell had an impression of mingled charm and reticence as she gave him her hand. The eyes were sweet and shy. But the unconscious dignity of bearing showed that the shyness was the shyness of strong character, rather than of mere youth and innocence. "This is my new friend, Mary Elsmere. You've heard they're at Forked Pond?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking