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Many times he rallied her when she became sentimental, as he said, and "chantait sa romance;" and now he himself sang it this romance of love. Great as was her happiness to listen to him, she could not help feeling an uneasy astonishment, and asked herself under what melancholy impression he found himself at this moment. He read her too well not to divine this uneasiness.
"This is from Citizen Michaux, the famous naturalist, the political agent of the French Republic. Read what he has written me." I read, I fear in a faltering voice: "Citoyen General: "Un homme qui a donne des preuves de son amour pour la Liberte et de sa haine pour le despotisme ne devait pas s'adresser en vain au ministre de la Republique francaise.
Love to Madame Beavor, as they adjourned to the salon, "I don't think you manage that brave man well." "Ma foi, comme il est ennuyeux avec sa Pologne," replied Madame Beavor, shrugging her shoulders. "True; but he is a very fine-shaped man; and it is a comfort to think that one will have no rival but his country. Trust me, and encourage him a little more; I think he would suit you to a T."
"A close shave, lad," said the old sailor, as he peered around for more snakes. "I I should sa say it wa was," panted Dick. He was deadly pale. "I I thought it would strangle me sure!" "If it had got around your neck, that is what would have happened. Reckon as how we had better git out o' this neighborhood, eh?" "Yes, yes, let us go at once," and Dick started off once more.
"The Signor Pretore has gone down to the place now, signore, with the Cancelliere and the Maresciallo. They have taken Gaspare with them." "Gaspare!" Artois thought of this boy, Maurice's companion during Hermione's absence. "Si, signore. Gaspare has to show them the exact place where he found the poor signore." "I suppose the inquiry will soon be over?" "Chi lo sa?"
'You see, I began to think the military business was getting rather overdone; the army, like Wordsworth's world, was "too much with us," and it occurred to me to see whether the General's courage would stand an outside test so I composed that little challenge. Yes, you see before you the only Wah Na Sa Pash Boo no others are genuine!
The initials "C. G." were marked in delicate embroidery on all the garments. Next came a lot of gentleman's handkerchiefs marked in the same way, and with them half a dozen thread cambric, lace-bordered handkerchiefs, evidently intended for a lady's use, and without mark. The next thing was a dress-suit, in which we took very little interest: then a yellow sheet of paper that we seized eagerly. We hoped it was a letter, but it was a poem without date or signature, written in French: Qu'elle est belle la marquise! Que sa toilette est exquise! Gants glacées
She trembled and turned away from her mirror, and crept to her couch like a guilty thing, with a feeling as if she was old, haggard, and doomed to shame for the sake of this Intendant, who cared not for her, or he would not have driven her to such desperate and wicked courses as never fell to the lot of a woman before. "C'est sa faute!
They tugged on, and dragged, and panted, with the furious vehemence of the exertion; when at length Philip shouted, in a voice half-stifled by strangulation, "Let g o o o, I I sa y y; ah! ah! ah!" Bat now ran over in a spirit of glee and triumph that cannot well be described, and clapping his wife on the back, shouted "Well done, Kate; stick to him for half a minute and he's yours.
The feminine failing of Madame des Ursins, was, we are told, this; "gallantry and l'entêtement de sa personne was in her the dominant and overweening weakness above all else, even to the latest period of her life." So Saint Simon says, and he renders her full justice moreover for her spirited and elevated qualities. "Elle a des moeurs
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