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Updated: June 28, 2025
The Trophies, or Augusta's Glory; a triumphant Ode, made in honour of the City, and upon the Trophies taken from the French at the Battle of Ramillies, May 25, 1706, by the Duke of Marlborough, and fixed in Guildhall, London, dedicated to the Lord Mayor, and Court of Aldermen and Sheriffs, and also to the President. and Court of Managers for the united Trade to the East Indies.
On the contrary, he declared she was a fine dashing woman, and seemed to have a great deal of blood about her. Mr. Mountague watched Lady Augusta's countenance in silence, and was much pleased to observe that she did not assent to his lordship's encomium.
Just how much Augusta's wedding portion was, was never known, but that it was satisfactory was proven by the felicitous expression of Lord Hardy's face, which beamed with delight as he said good-by to his mother-in-law, whom he kissed in the exuberance of his joy.
"Oh, I beg, I insist upon it; you can't think how much you distress me!" cried a voice which sounded like Lady Augusta's. Mr. Mountague immediately went to see what was the matter. "It is only my bracelet," said she, turning to him.
"What d'ye mean?" growled old Ketch. "Is this a way to come and set upon a gentleman in his own house? Who taught you manners, Joe Jenkins?" "You have been repeating what I mentioned last night about Lady Augusta's son getting the seniorship," said Jenkins, coming in and closing the door. "You did say it," retorted Mr. Ketch. "I know I did. But I did not suppose you were going to repeat it again."
It was Augusta's agreement with Meeson and Co. for "Jemima's Vow," the agreement binding her to them for five years which had been the cause of all her troubles, and, as she firmly believed, of her little sister's death. "There, my dear," said Eustace to his wife, "there is a present for you. Take it!" Augusta took the document, and having looked to see what it was, shivered as she did so.
Augusta's eyes filled with tears. "But but everybody calls you 'Andy' and and just 'Symes' sounds so familiar. Why can't I call you 'Phidias?" "Phidias! Do, by all means, call me Phidias. I dote on Phidias! I love the combination Phidias Symes. Father was drunk when he named me."
But, whatever you do, have the goodness to release Augusta's hand. Don't you see how desperately she is struggling, poor thing?" Strand dropped the hand as if it had been a hot coal, blushed to the edge of his hair, and made another profound reverence.
It comes back to me that on the following day my successor in the governorship of the jail, who he was I know not now, arrived, and that to him in due form I handed over my offices and duties. Before I did so, however, I made it my care to release Barnabas, I think on the previous evening. In his cell I read the Augusta's warrant to the old bishop.
"Don't you smell it, Furlong?" said Scatterbrain, who was so lost in looking at Augusta's mustachios that he did not mind anything else. "Isn't it horrid?" said O'Grady, with a look of disgust. Furlong thought he alluded to the mustachio, and replied with an assurance that he "liked it of all things." "Like it?" said O'Grady; "you've a queer taste.
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