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It was not very kind, even if she did jilt him. It seems a small revenge to me. I wish I could have made my presence known and then I should not have heard Mr. Kinsella belittle himself, which I certainly think he did." Poor Mrs.
"This is not merely a jest, Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really amongst the number of your friends I should like you to know that to put it plainly my own little world would tell you at the moment that I am a heartless jilt." "That is a very ugly expression, Mr. Lavendar, and I shall choose not to believe it, until you give me your own version of the story."
Harry had been offended to the quick, and had called her a jilt; but yet it might be possible that he would return to her. It should not be supposed that since her return to England she had had one settled, definite object before her eyes with regard to this renewal of her love.
Then the countess went away, and Alexandrina was left with her lover for half an hour. When the half-hour was over, he felt that he would have given all that he had in the world to have back the last four-and-twenty hours of his existence. But he had no hope. To jilt Lily Dale would, no doubt, be within his power, but he knew that he could not jilt Lady Alexandrina de Courcy.
Then come I and ransack the minstrels' lines for amorous turns, not forgetting those which Petrarch wasted on that French jilt Laura, the sliest of them all; and I lay you the whole bundle of spice at the feet of the only females worthy amorous incense; to wit, the Nine Muses." "By which goodly stratagem," said Jerome, who had been turning the pages all this time, "you, a friar of St.
They had been so innocent, so fragile, so free from blame; all but the last; and this last it was that threatened to rise like a shadow perhaps, and defeat his winning the only woman he could ever love. Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze, and then stole a look at Mark Lavendar. "The idea of calling that man a jilt," she thought.
It believed that Elizabeth had been jilted, for it knew, via Annie and the Oglethorpe's laundress, that no letters came from Dick. And against Dick its indignation was directed, in a hot flame of mainly feminine anger. But it sensed a mystery, too, and if it hated a jilt it loved a mystery.
Behn had by that means considerably protracted the interest in "The Fair Jilt: or, the Amours of Prince Tarquin and Miranda" , and Mrs. Haywood, following her example, succeeded in giving a last stimulus to the jaded nerves of the readers of "The Force of Nature" and "The Injur'd Husband."
Then the other laughs, and crys Ay, rot her and tells his Story too, and concludes with, Who manages the Jilt now; Why, faith, some dismal Coxcomb or other, you may be sure, replies the first. But, Ned, these are Rogues, and Rascals, that value no Man's Reputation, because they despise their own.
I have in a previous chapter said how I wrote Can You Forgive Her? after the plot of a play which had been rejected, which play had been called The Noble Jilt. Some year or two after the completion of The Last Chronicle, I was asked by the manager of a theatre to prepare a piece for his stage, and I did so, taking the plot of this novel. I called the comedy Did He Steal It?
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