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Updated: May 14, 2025
My burden's too heavy for me!" The young man leant over her like a son. "Mrs. Trevennack," he said, gently, smoothing her silvery white hair with sympathetic fingers, "I think I can keep them apart. I'll speak seriously to Tyrrel about it. He's a very good fellow, and he'll do anything I ask of him. I'm sure he'll try to avoid falling in with your husband.
It's novel, you see, novel, while Walker's is conventional. And they'll take the conventional one. But its a first rate design for all that, I can tell you. I never saw a better one." "Well, but how do you know what Walker's is like?" Tyrrel asked, somewhat dismayed at the practical man's coolness. "Oh, he showed it me last night," Sir Edward answered, calmly.
"More honored in the breach than the observance." One evening, which Mr. Tyrrel happened to spend with us, after Mr. Stanley had performed the family devotions, Mr. Tyrrel said to him: "Stanley, I don't much like the prayer you read. It seems, by the great stress it lays on holiness, to imply that a man has something in his own power.
The two women knew Michael Trevennack must be profoundly moved, indeed, so to tear open the half-healed wound in his tortured bosom before two casual strangers. But Tyrrel, too, gave a start as he spoke, and looked hard at the careworn face of that unhappy man. "Then you're Mr. Trevennack!" he exclaimed, all aghast. "Mr. Trevennack of the Admiralty!"
If they meet, I can't answer for what harm may come of it." Eustace was taken aback at her unexpected words. Not even to Cleer had he ever hinted in any way at the strange disclosure Walter Tyrrel made to him that first day at Penmorgan. He hesitated how to answer her without betraying his friend's secret.
The crucial point of Ethel's revelations had not yet been revealed, but Madam was now in a gentle mood, and Ethel took the opportunity to introduce her to Tyrrel Rawdon. She was expecting and waiting for this topic, but stubbornly refused to give Ethel any help toward bringing it forward.
You see, he's a Tyrrel, and he's bound to be cautious. "Why so?" Le Neve asked, somewhat puzzled. "Why a Tyrrel more than the rest of us?" The man hesitated and stared hard at him. "Well, it's like this, sir," he answered at last, with the shamefaced air of the intelligent laboring man who confesses to a superstition. "We Cornish are old-fashioned, and we has our ideas.
She looked back at the trials she had passed, and her soul sickened at the recollection of that, which, while it was in act, she had had the fortitude to endure. Till the period at which Mr. Tyrrel had been inspired with this cruel antipathy, she had been in all instances a stranger to anxiety and fear.
"Show me any one instance of good that ever was effected by any one poet," said Mr. Tyrrel, "and I will give up the point; while, on the other hand, a thousand instances of mischief might be produced." "The latter part of your assertion, sir," said I, "I fear is too true: but to what evil has elevation of fancy led Milton, or Milton his readers?
It comprised the murder of Henry VI., the wooing of Lady Anne, not in a London street, but in a rural place, on the road to Chertsey; the lamentation for King Edward IV.; the episode of the boy princes; the condemnation of Hastings, a scene that brilliantly denotes the mingled artifice and savagery of Shakespeare's Gloster; the Buckingham plot; the priest and mayor scene; the temptation of Tyrrel; the fall of Buckingham; the march to battle; the episode of the spectres; and the fatal catastrophe on Bosworth Field.
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