Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 19, 2025
As a consequence of that, the Valdeschi have always had a great fondness for England, and have often married English wives English Catholics, of course. An Englishwoman was Countess of Sampaolo when the end came, the patchwork end." "Ah, yes," said Anthony, "the patchwork end tell me about that."
Go to Sampaolo, make her acquaintance, fall in love with her, persuade her to fall in love with you, marry her, and there will be the grand old House of Valdeschi itself again." Her eyes glowed. But Anthony only laughed. "You counsel procedures incompatible," he said.
"It's astonishing," said Adrian, "how, by some occult process of selection, in spite of perpetual marriage with new blood, in spite of the thousand vicissitudes of time and circumstance, in a given family a particular feature will persist. There 's the Habsburg lip, for instance. And here is the Valdeschi nose.
Anthony took it, bent ever it, kissed it, studied it. "It is a delicious hand but I see no pit," he said. "There," said she, placing the tip of her finger upon a tiny concavity in the rose-white flesh. "That?" laughed Anthony. "That is nothing but a pretty little dimple." "Oh, no," said she, seriously. "That is the mark of the Valdeschi. I 'm sure you have it too we all have it. Let me see."
They would prefer any burden to the burden of insignificance; and under the reign of the Valdeschi, though free, prosperous, and happy, Sampaolo was insignificant." "You paint a very sad state of things," said Anthony. "Believe me," said Susanna, "my painting is pale beside the reality." "And, apparently, a hopeless state," he added.
"'Not so, said she, but I will see If there be any faith in man." "He shall go to Sampaolo and be tempted. With his own eyes he shall behold the heritage of the Valdeschi. Then he shall be approached by his cousin's friends, by the reluctant but obedient Commendatore Fregi, for example, and sorely tempted. I 've got rather a subtle little scheme.
"Yes," agreed Susanna; "but it is not so good as Antonio Francesco Guido Maria Valdeschi della Spina, Conte di Sampaolo." "It is not so long, at any rate," said he. "Nor so full of colour," supplemented she. "As I hinted before, a name like a herald's tabard might be something of an inconvenience in work-a-day England," he returned. Then he smiled, rather sorrily.
"S. del Valdeschi della Spina, Contessa di Sampaolo." "Al Illmo. Signore, S. E. il Conte di Sampaolo, Alla Villa del Ponte, Vallanza." Anthony, his cousin's letter held at arm's length, turned to the white-bearded Capuchin, where he stood in his brown habit, patiently waiting, with his clasped hands covered by his sleeves.
She took his lean brown hand, and examined it carefully, eagerly. "There! I was sure!" she cried. She pointed to where, in a position corresponding to that of the "mark of the Valdeschi" in her own hand, there was an indentation that looked like a half-obliterated scar. Presently, in the direction of the Palace, a bell began to ring, rather a deep-toned bell, like a church-bell. Susanna rose.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking