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Updated: May 19, 2025
They looked enviously at the closed door of the Bodleian, they read the Latin names of the schools just freshly painted at intervals round the quadrangle, and then Forbes led them out upon the steps in front of the Radcliffe and S. Mary's, and let them take their time a little.
"Now, Goblin," cried Falstaff, as the train ran past the Port Meadow, and the Radcliffe dome dropped from view; "Open those sealed orders! You promised to draw up the rules of the game." King pulled a paper from his pocket. "I jotted down some points," he said. "This is the time to discuss them." "Rules to be Observed by the Scorpions on the Great Kathleen Excursion
Much, too, as he disliked burning the midnight oil or any kind of night-work, and the strain that artificial light imposed upon his eyes, he would write late in his rooms, or read up on subjects he was writing about in the reading-room in the Radcliffe Library building till it closed at ten P.M. He had, it will be seen, a high sense of duty, and "business before pleasure" was a precept he never neglected.
I couldn't make Radcliffe respect my authority, if I depended on some one else to enforce it. It's just one of those cases where one has to fight one's own battle alone." "Then it is a battle?" Martha inquired quietly. "O, it's a battle, 'all right," laughed Claire mirthlessly, and before Mrs. Slawson could probe her further, she managed to make her escape.
An' my mother she said to the other comp'ny, 'Miss Pelham, this is Radcliffe. An' Miss Pelham, she was lookin' sideways at Miss Lang an' Mr. I wonder if you're any relation to Radcliffe College? An' I said, 'No. I wonder if you are any relation to Pelham Manor? An' while they was laughin', an' my mother she was tellin' how percoshus I am, my Uncle Frank he came in.
"Fell away from nothin'. That's what they call a figger o' speech. Means you ain't got thin." "Well, you've got thin, haven't you, Martha? I don't 'member your cheeks had those two long lines in 'em before." "Lines?" repeated Martha, regarding herself in the mirror of an étagère she was polishing. "Them ain't lines. Them's dimples." Radcliffe scrutinized her critically for a moment.
When she arose to go, she was pale and haggard, like one exhausted by pain, and her steps uneven, like the steps of an invalid walking for the first time. Dr. Radcliffe went with her in silence to the door. "Oh, doctor," said Edith, in a choking voice, as she lingered a moment on the steps, "can't you bring out of this frightful mystery something for my heart to rest upon? I want the truth.
It was a relief to both when dinner was announced. Wyllard sat next to his hostess, and was not sorry that he was called upon to take part only in casual general conversation. He thought once or twice that Miss Ismay was unobtrusively studying him. It was nearly an hour after the dinner when Mrs. Radcliffe left them alone in the drawing-room.
When questioned with regard to that most impressive of all episodes in Roger's life, his love for his cousin, now Lady Radcliffe, he showed himself unacquainted not merely with precise dates, but with the broad outline of the story and the order of events. His answers on these matters were again confused, and wholly irreconcilable.
Now there was living in Washington about this time, one Ben Stretcher, a man of wonderful genius, and a correspondent of no less than five very enterprising newspapers, for all of which he manufactured wars and diplomatic irruptions with a facility that would have put Lord Stratford de Radcliffe to the blush. Stretcher knew everbody in Washington, and everybody in Washington knew Stretcher.
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