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Updated: May 25, 2025
Of course he had heard that Morton was to marry Arabella Trefoil, and though he made no direct allusion to the fact, as Reginald had done, he spoke in that bland eulogistic tone which clearly showed his purpose. "They went with you to Lord Rufford's, I was told." "Yes; they did." "And now they have left the neighbourhood.
If, therefore, you now favour Sir Reginald with your visit, for the purpose of making a demand previous to his quitting England, and which, consequently, will be the last to which he will concede, you will have the goodness to name the amount of your claim, and should it be reasonable, I think Sir Reginald will authorize me to say, that it shall be granted."
You remember the words of the gifted poetess, 'Go weep with those who weep, you say, Ye fools! I bid you pass them by, Go, weep with those whose hearts have bled What time their eyes were dry. But I must go. Have you not a word of congratulation for me, Reginald?" "Why?" was the amazed reply; "and for what?" "Oh," said Dr.
"What do you think of that?" "Why, I think it's very ridiculous not to put the `capital J' next to the `capital I," said Reginald. Gedge laughed. "Go and tell Durfy that; he'd like to hear it."
He chose his friends partly for their charm, and partly for their bad reputations; and the white flower of a blameless life was much too inartistic to have any attraction for him. He believed that Art showed the way to Nature, and worshipped the abnormal with all the passion of his impure and subtle youth. "Lord Reginald Hastings," cried Mrs.
Good first name the legatee is that right, Sir Reginald?" "Quite right, Sir Gervaise; and Sir Wycherly will understand that he now names the first person to whom he wishes to bequeath any thing else." "Milly," muttered the sick man. "What? Mills! the mills go with the lands, Sir Reginald?" "He means Miss Mildred Dutton," eagerly interposed Wycherly, though with sufficient modesty.
The stone that marks the burying-place of the Andrewes family taught me the secret of the special love the Rector bore me. It recorded the deaths of his wife Margaret, and of his son Reginald. The child was born in the same year as myself. Mr. Jonathan Andrewes came to Dacrefield on business connected with his brother's affairs, and he accepted my father's hospitality at the Hall.
"Upon my life, Danton," he exclaimed letting his hand fall lightly on the Doctor's shoulder, "you ought to be burned for a wizard! What other planet do you suppose it was?" "Has that sprained ankle of yours got quite strong again?" somewhat irrelevantly inquired the physician. Reginald Stanford laughed. "Most astute of men! Who has been telling you tales?" "My own natural sagacity.
Reginald Cracknell, his voice tremulous with self-pity and his eyes moist with the combined effects of anguish and over-indulgence in his celebrated private stock, "after all I've done for her she throws me down." Sally did not reply.
Love, indeed!" whereupon she bounced out of the office and slammed the door behind her. Reginald sat with his eyes on the door for a full two minutes before he could sufficiently collect his wits to know where he was or what had happened.
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