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Stryker, we strongly suspect that his fancy for fishing was an acquired taste, like most of those he cherished; we very much doubt whether he would ever have been a follower of Izaak Walton, had there not been a fashionable accoutrement for brothers of the rod, at the present day. Several of the ladies also fished for half an hour; Mrs. Creighton begging for a seat in Mr.
Since we are so near the last page, we shall also admit that Mrs. Creighton had quite a strong partiality for Mr. Stryker, while the gentleman was thoroughly in love with her; but neither was rich, and money, that is to say wealth, was absolutely necessary in the opinion of both parties; so Mr. Stryker went off to New Orleans in quest of a quadroon heiress recommended to him, and Mrs.
"Now she will do this" "I am sure she thinks that" "I know her better than Ellsworth" "She can't endure Stryker" and other remarks of the kind, which kept his attention fixed upon his old playfellow; the more closely he observed her the more he saw to love and admire; for their former long intimacy had given him a key to her character, and greater knowledge of the world enabled him fully to appreciate her purity of principle, her native grace and modesty, the generous tone of her mind, the unaffected sweetness of her disposition.
Simultaneously the mechanician whirled about, bounded eagerly across the floor, and caught Stryker at the door, his dexterous fingers twisting in the captain's collar as he jerked him back and tripped him. "Mr. Kirkwood!" he cried. "Here, please one moment. Take this man's gun, from him, will you?"
Quivering with excitement he bent again over the book and studied it intently. After all, he had not been wrong! He could assert now, without fear of refutation, that Stryker had lied. Some one had wielded an industrious pencil on the page. It was, taken as a whole, fruitful of clues. which happened to be the quickest and most direct route between London and Antwerp.
Stryker," continued Mrs. Creighton. "Thank you: I am condemned to drink three glasses every morning, and it will be three hours, at this rate, before I get them." "Did you ever hear a better shriek than that, Miss Wyllys?" said Mr. Stryker, lowering his voice, and pointing to Emma Taylor, who was standing on the opposite side of the spring, engaged in a noisy, rattling flirtation.
Stryker seldom commit themselves unless they feel pretty sure of success." The conversation was here interrupted, Elinor was engaged to ride with Mr. Wyllys, who now returned from the reading-room for his grand-daughter. Mrs. Creighton was also going out with her brother, and proposed the two parties joining; an invitation which Mr. Wyllys had very readily accepted.
Kirkwood approached the captain, who, acting as his own pilot, was standing by the wheel and barking sharp orders to the helmsman. "Have you a Bradshaw on board?" asked the young man. "Steady!" This to the man at the wheel; then to Kirkwood: "Wot's that, me lud?" Kirkwood repeated his question. Stryker eyed him suspiciously for a thought. "Wot d'you want it for?"
"That I can not tell," said Bartlett firmly. "But it had nothing to do with the matter in hand." There was a rustle of expectancy on hearing this, and the prosecutor quickly asked: "What do you mean by 'the matter in hand'?" "Well, his death." "Naturally you didn't talk about his death, for it hadn't taken place," said Mr. Stryker. "Nor could it have been foreseen, I imagine.
"I am glad you like it; but we really think that, for such simple scenery, it is uncommonly pretty," replied Elinor. "Yes; even your fastidious friend, Mr. Stryker, pronounced the landscape about Wyllys-Roof to be very well put together," said Mrs. Creighton. "Mr. Stryker, however, professes to have no eye for anything of the kind," replied Elinor.
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