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Updated: May 14, 2025
Here he was startled from his revery by a friendly slap on the shoulder, and an exclamation, "Why, Randal, you are more absent than when you used to steal away from the cricket-ground, muttering Greek verses, at Eton." "My dear Frank," said Randal, "you you are so brusque, and I was just thinking of you." "Were you?
And he says, he is thinking of a way to relieve me altogether, and will call about it in a few days, when his plan is matured. After all, I must owe this to you, Randal. I dare swear you put it into his head." "Oh, no, indeed! On the contrary, I still say, Be cautious in all your dealings with Levy. I don't know, I 'm sure, what he means to propose. Have you heard from the Hall lately?"
Esther had been in the "King's Head" now nearly a year. The first Mrs. Latch had got her divorce without much difficulty; and Esther had begun to realise that she had got a good husband long before they slipped round to the nearest registry office and came back man and wife. Charles opened the door. "Mr. Randal is in the bar, sir, and would like to have a word with you."
"Ah, I heard the clergyman say as how Master Randal was a mighty clever lad, and would get rich some day. I 'se sure I wish he would, for a poor squire makes a poor parish. There's the Hall, sir." Frank looked right ahead, and saw a square house that, in spite of modern sash windows, was evidently of remote antiquity.
Stirn having now got what he considered a complete and unconditional authority over all the legs and wrists of Hazeldean parish, /quoad/ the stocks, took his departure. "Randal," said Mrs. Leslie on this memorable Sunday, "Randal, do you think of going to Mr. Hazeldean's?" "Yes, ma'am," answered Randal. "Mr.
"Oh, sir, you are too good, too good." His voice trembled so that Randal took alarm, passed by him, and touched him meaningly. The squire pressed his son to his heart, heart so large, that it seemed to fill the whole width under his broadcloth.
Sophie and her friend had often heard Randal talk, for he was an accomplished raconteur, but that night he exerted himself, and was unusually brilliant and entertaining, as if upon his mettle. The Bassets were charmed. They sat late and were very merry, for Aunt Plumy got up a little supper for them, and her cider was as exhilarating as champagne.
The tree stood on a knoll, and the spot commanded a view of the decayed house, the dilapidated church, the dreary village. "Oliver," said Randal, between his teeth, so that his voice had the sound of a hiss, "it was under this tree that I first resolved to " He paused. "What, Randal?" "Read hard: knowledge is power!" "But you are so fond of reading." "I!" cried Randal.
"Neither individuals nor nations ever go back of their own accord. There must be an earthquake before a river recedes to its source." "You speak well," answered Randal, "and I cannot gainsay you. But now!" "Ah, the now is the grand question in life, the then is obsolete, gone by, out of fashion; and now, mon cher, you come to ask my advice?" "No, Baron, I come to ask your explanation." "Of what?"
I know human nature pretty well, I think, my love; and, Giacomo, just get me my Machiavelli; that's right. Now leave me, my dear; I must reflect and prepare myself." When Randal entered the house, Giacomo, with a smile of peculiar suavity, ushered him into the drawing-room.
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