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Hargrave followed me thither, under pretence of coming for a book; and first, turning to the shelves, he selected a volume, and then quietly, but by no means timidly, approaching me, he stood beside me, resting his hand on the back of my chair, and said softly, ‘And so you consider yourself free at last?’
Huntingdon.’ Did I, or did I not?’ ‘No,’ muttered he, turning away. ‘Speak up, sir; they can’t hear you. Did I grant your request? ‘You did not.’ ‘No, I’ll be sworn she didn’t,’ said Hattersley, ‘or he’d never look so black.’ ‘I’m willing to grant you the satisfaction of a gentleman, Huntingdon,’ said Mr. Hargrave, calmly addressing his host, but with a bitter sneer upon his countenance.
Hargrave arranged them, he bowed in silence to the clergyman, who, in a trembling voice, began the rite which was to unite Amyas Belamour to Aurelia Delavie.
She rose and started for the door. "Don't you want to fix your hair first?" asked Mrs. Hargrave in amazement. "It is all tousled up, and your nose is red and shiny." "It can stay so!" said the elegant Mrs. Horton. "I don't mind at all letting her see that I was breaking my heart for her. Perhaps it will help her to believe that I have one." Followed by Mrs. Hargrave, Mrs.
Of course, the wretched sufferer’s temper was not improved by this calamity—in fact, I suspect it was well nigh insupportable, though his kind nurse did not complain; but she said she had been obliged at last to give her son in charge to Esther Hargrave, as her presence was so constantly required in the sick-room that she could not possibly attend to him herself; and though the child had begged to be allowed to continue with her there, and to help her to nurse his papa, and though she had no doubt he would have been very good and quiet, she could not think of subjecting his young and tender feelings to the sight of so much suffering, or of allowing him to witness his father’s impatience, or hear the dreadful language he was wont to use in his paroxysms of pain or irritation.
There was much more mystery in a shipload of horses the nine hundred horses that were galloping through the head of Sir Henry Marquis than in all the five prosaic years during which young Hargrave had succeeded his father as a jewel buyer. The American was impressed by this mystery of the nine hundred horses. Sir Henry had said it was a mystery in every direction.
Thomas: Ancient Faiths Embodied in Ancient Names; Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism. Jennings, Hargrave: The Rosicrucians; The Indian Religions. King, C. W: The Gnostics and their Remains; Hand-book of Engraved Gems. Knight, R. P.: The Symbolical Language of Ancient Art and Mythology; Two Essays on the Worship of Priapus. Layard, A.: Babylon and Nineveh; Nineveh and its Remains.
I seen some whoppin' redgums in Gippsland too; but the biggest one I ever seen was on the Goulb'n. Course, when I say 'big, I mean measurement; I ain't thinkin' about holler shells, with no timber in 'em. This tree I'm speakin' about had eleven thousand two hundred an' some odd feet o' timber in her; an' Jack Hargrave, the feller that cut her" "His troubles is over too," murmured Baxter.
The time that I met him alone was on a bright, but not oppressively hot day, in the beginning of July: I had taken little Arthur into the wood that skirts the park, and there seated him on the moss-cushioned roots of an old oak; and, having gathered a handful of bluebells and wild-roses, I was kneeling before him, and presenting them, one by one, to the grasp of his tiny fingers; enjoying the heavenly beauty of the flowers, through the medium of his smiling eyes: forgetting, for the moment, all my cares, laughing at his gleeful laughter, and delighting myself with his delight,—when a shadow suddenly eclipsed the little space of sunshine on the grass before us; and looking up, I beheld Walter Hargrave standing and gazing upon us.
Then if one of us looks as though we wanted it the other one whispers, 'Rah rah rah, college ah, which is our own college yell, and we take the plain one. "Lots of ways it looks to be harder on mother than it is on me. I know she goes without so many things she would love lectures and concerts and all that. I just hate that part!" "I am glad you do," said Mrs. Hargrave.
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