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Updated: June 7, 2025
She was a most gifted being: she had a precious soul: she had the most remarkable talents to all outward seeming, the most heavenly disposition, &c. It was in this way that, being then at the height of his own fever and bewitchment for Blanche, Smirke discoursed to Arthur about her. The meeting between the two old acquaintances had been very cordial.
Smirke's society, had done nothing but talk to his tutor about Miss Fotheringay Miss Emily Fotheringay Emily, etc., to all which talk Smirke listened without difficulty, for he was in love himself, most anxious in all things to propitiate Pen, and indeed very much himself enraptured by the personal charms of this goddess, whose like, never having been before at a theatrical representation, he had not beheld until now.
Smirke convulsively gulped down his glass of wine, and Pen waved his over his head, cheering so as to make his mother and Laura wonder on the lawn, and his uncle, who was dozing over the paper in the drawing-room, start, and say to himself, "That boy's drinking too much." Smirke put down the glass. "I accept the omen," gasped out the blushing Curate. "Oh my dear Arthur, you you know her "
He nearly killed Smirke with terror by putting him on his mare, and taking him a ride over a common where the county fox-hounds happened to meet.
Hurray! claret goes for nothing. My uncle was telling me that he saw Sheridan drink five bottles at Brookes's, besides a bottle of Maraschino. This is some of the finest wine in England, he says. So it is, by Jove. There's nothing like it. Nunc vino pellite curas cras ingens iterabimus aeq, fill your glass, Old Smirke, a hogshead of it won't do you any harm." And Mr.
But when Blanche had a conference of near two hours in the vestry with Mr. Smirke, Belinda paced up and down on the grass, where there were only two little grave-stones as yet; she wished that she had a third there: only, only he would offer very likely to that creature, who had infatuated him, in a fortnight. No, she would retire; she would go into a convent, and profess, and leave him.
She passed for a saint with the clergyman for a while, whom she quite took in, and whom she coaxed, and wheedled, and fondled so artfully, that poor Mrs. Smirke, who at first was charmed with her, then bore with her, then would hardly speak to her, was almost mad with jealousy. Mrs. Smirke was the wife of our old friend Smirke, Pen's tutor and poor Helen's suitor.
"No," said Pen, "women give headaches, but this don't. Fill your glass, old fellow, and let's drink I say, Smirke, my boy let's drink to her your her, I mean, not mine, for whom I swear I'll care no more no, not a penny no, not a fig no, not a glass of wine. Tell us about the lady, Smirke; I've often seen you sighing about her."
It is only when they are passed long away that he remembers how dear and happy they were. In order to keep Mr. Pen from indulging in that idleness of which his friend the Doctor of the Cistercians had prophesied such awful consequences, Mr. Smirke, Dr. Portman's curate, was engaged at a liberal salary, to walk or ride over from Clavering and pass several hours daily with the young gentleman.
Blank, weary, utterly wretched and lonely the poor lad felt. His mother saw She was gone by his look when he came home. He was eager to fly too now, as were other folks round about Chatteris. Poor Smirke wanted to go away from the sight of the syren widow. Foker began to think he had had enough of Baymouth, and that a few supper-parties at Saint Boniface would not be unpleasant.
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