Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 25, 2025
Tris was handsome enough and proud and happy enough to have set off a fisher's suit of blue flannel; but he trod like a prince and looked like a young sea-god in his splendid array. It had been thought best for the bride to go to St. Clair by sea. There was no carriage available, and the walk to St. Clair was long and apt to be wet from the last tide.
A man can love what others love, but a woman wants something or someone to love that is all her own. And she was interested enough in Tris' return to dress with more than usual care that evening.
In the autumn Tris returned for a few days, but he was so busy that he could not leave the yacht. She was being provisioned and put in order for the long Mediterranean winter voyage, and Tris was in constant demand. But John and Joan and Denas walked over to St. Clair to bid him good-bye. And never had Tris looked so handsome and so manly. His air of authority became him.
A fine young man! So the next thing was, he spoke to Tris and hired him to sail his yacht. And 'tis far off, by the way of Giberaltar, they have been yet home at last, thank God!" "Tris will be sure to come here, I suppose?" "Ann Trewillow told him you were home a widow, and all; he will be here as soon as he can leave the yacht. It is here he comes first of all as soon as he touches land again."
She felt that in either refusing or accepting Tris' affection she would be doing both herself and Tris an injustice. A love that does not spring into existence perfect needs cautious tending; too much sunshine, too much care, too constant watching will slay it. There must be time given for it to grow. Without reasoning on the matter, Denas felt that absence would be a good thing.
"The lover that kept you on the cliff-breast Roland Tresham, he be the lover I mean." "Who told you I was with Roland?" "I know that you were not at Mr. Tresham's, for one called there to put you safely home." "I suppose Tris Penrose has been spying me and telling tales to father and you." "There be no need for Tris nor for anyone else to speak.
She thought with a pleasant pride of the solemn joy she was going to give; nor was she oblivious of the fact that her father and mother and Tris would have an opportunity to listen to her singing music worthy of the noblest voice to interpret. It was a warm, sunshiny day.
But apart from this partiality he had made sensible observations of the strange ways of building and living, and had come to the conviction that Cornish people held the great secret of a happy life. As for the Mediterranean itself, Tris considered it "a jade of a sea, nohow worth the praise it got."
My father made all possible speed to find his breeches. Susanah got the start and kept it. "'Tis Tris something," cried Susanah. "There is no Christian name in the world," said the curate, "beginning with Tris, but Tristram." "Then 'tis Tristram-gistus," quoth Susanah. "There is no gistus to it, noodle; 'tis my own name," replied the curate, dipping his hand as he spoke into the basin.
After a few minutes' conversation John went out with Tris Penrose, and then Denas began to cry with anger and disappointment. "My father has insulted me before Tris Penrose," she said, "and I will never speak to Tris again. Many a time and oft he has let me go to St. Penfer when it was raining and blowing. He is very cross, cruel cross! Mother, you give me leave do! I will tell you a secret.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking