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Updated: June 17, 2025
'I am so very pleased to come. I have been longing to see you again, said her young guest. Thornley had discreetly withdrawn. 'And how lovely it is here! You don't know how I enjoy seeing flowers again like these. 'It is pretty, isn't it? said Lady Myrtle, pleased by the frank admiration. 'In cold weather I am sometimes shut up a good deal, and my garden is my great delight.
Thornley had got for his malt, how that pig-headed old Stubbs wouldn't sell his corn, and how when he began to thresh it and the ferrets were brought, a hundred rats were killed and bushels of wheat had been eaten. You ask me what is the matter. I do not deny I am not quite happy, but it would be worse than useless to dwell upon my unhappiness and try to give you reasons for it.
"Routed the guerilla! We saw no guerilla." "What! at the hacienda?" "Peons and women; nothing more. Yes, there was, too what am I thinking about? There was a party there that routed us; Thornley and Hillis here have both been wounded, and are not likely to recover poor fellows!" I looked towards these gentlemen for an explanation. They were both laughing, and I looked in vain.
And even in that happier place, Where pain is past and sorrow dead, I could not love an angel's face Instead. That night Elisabeth wrote to Christopher Thornley, telling him that she believed she had found George Farringdon's son at last, and asking him to come up to London in order to facilitate the giving up of her kingdom into the hands of the rightful owner.
A little lighter in heart, he went to pay his visit to Thornley, whom he found occupying his old rooms. As Bruce recrossed the familiar threshold, the contrasts of past and present were almost too much for him, and he found it difficult to restrain his tears. He stayed but a short time, and then returned to London to his poor and lonely lodgings.
Thornley, my love; you don't think that he and Felicia are at all interested in one another?" "Good gracious, no! I'm sure they are not. If they had been, I should have spotted it and talked about it ages ago." "I hope you are not given to talk about such things, even if you do perceive them," said Mrs. Herbert, with reproof in her tone; "talking scandal is a sad habit."
"Only a thief wishes to be trusted," he explained, "and only a fool trusts. I let no one trust me; I trust no one. But I believe evil of no man. Even when he has been convicted, I see the mitigating circumstances." How Thornley did stand by me! And for no reason except that it was as necessary for him to be fair and just as to breathe.
Thornley, on whose estate he was employed as agent, and to whom he owed money. The Whigs offered repeatedly to pay his debt and confer other favours upon him if he would only give up his agitation against the Poor Law. But in vain; he remained in prison, whence he published his Fleet Papers against the factory system and the Poor Law.
I am sure that you personally will be glad of any opportunity to help an old school-fellow in his distress and difficulty, for report tells me that Julian Home is as kind-hearted and generous as he was when he won the Newry scholarship at Harton. Believe me to be, my dear Home, yours very truly, WALTER THORNLEY."
"Well done, old Home," said Walter; while Mr Thornley nodded rapidly two or three times, and murmured after him, "And on the mere the wailing died away." "Really, I think Julian did that admirably, did he not?" said a young and lovely girl to her mother, as Home sat down. "By jingo," whispered Walter, "I believe these people just by us are Home's people."
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