A Pair of Blue Eyes
birds sin
terogeneous meal called high tea-a class of refection welcome to all when away from men and towns, and particularly attractive to youthful palates. The table was prettily decked wi
been writing at a side-table, and, after sitting down to it, tingled with a sense of being grossly rude. However, seeing that he noticed nothing personally wrong in her, and that he too was embarrassed when she attentively watched his cup to refill it, Elfride became better at ease; and when furthermore he accidentally kicked the leg of the table, and then nearly upset his tea-cup, just as schoolboys did, she felt herself mistress of the situation, and could talk very well. In a few minutes ingenuousness and a common ter
, 'I felt that I wanted to say a few words to you before the morning, on the business of your visit. One's patience gets exhausted by staying a prisoner in bed all day through a sudden freak of one's enemy-new to me,
orry to see you laid up, I beg you will not take the
't afford to stand upon ceremony in these parts as you see, and for this reason, that a civilized human being seldom stays long with us; and so we cannot waste time in approaching him, or he will be gone before we have had the pleasure of cl
ar
ervice, open their umbrellas and hold them up till the dripping ceases from the roof. Now, if you will k
and the vicar seemed to notice more part
are quite compe
e young man, col
ancy-I should say you ar
rly twen
f my age; I
and that your grandfather came originally from Caxbury. Since I have been speaking, it has occurred to me th
have any of their
ice Smith-he lies in St. Mary's Church, doesn't he? Well, out of that family Sprang the Le
ted Stephen. 'But there is no connection be
m Caxbury. Here in this book is a genealogical tree of the Stephen Fitzmaurice Smiths of Caxbury Manor. You may be only a family of professional men now-I am not inquisitive: I don't ask questions of that kind; it is no
some more tangible quality,' said the y
one among my ancestors who lost a barony because he would cut his joke. Ah, it's the sort of us! But the story is too long to tell now. Ay, I'm a poor man-a poor gentleman, in fact: those I would be friends with, won't be friends with me; tho
dies, your books,
e vicar began a series of small private laughs, and Stephen looked inquiry. 'Oh, no, no! it is too bad-too bad to tell!' continued Mr. Swancourt in undertones of grim mirth. 'Well, go downstairs; my daughter
downstairs, thinking of the delightful freedom of manner in
rather deaf,' said Elfride anxiously, whe
riends,' the man of business replied enthusiasticall
her for the benefit of dull sojourners. At the same time, as Mr. Smith's manner was too frank to provoke criticism, and his age too little to inspire fear, she was ready-not to say pleased-to accede. Selecting from t
d thing, Mr. Smith?'
ve uttered, and sincerely, to anything on earth,
e, that was given me by a young French
ante, je l'a
er ou les oi
Shelley's "When the lamp is shattered," as set to music by my poor m
he pages of his memory. As the patron Saint has her attitude and accessories in mediaeval illumination, so the sweetheart may be said to have hers upon the table of her true Love's fancy, without which she
ith trimmings of swan's-down, and opening up from a point in front, like a waistcoat without a shirt; the cool colour contrasting admirably with the warm bloom of her neck and face. The furthermost candle on the piano comes immediately in a line with her head, and hal
, who b
y of all t
e you the
e, your home,
into Stephen's face, and a still more rapid look back again to her business, her face having dropped its sadness, and acquired a certain ex
this nook he squeezed himself, and gazed wistfully up into Elfride's face. So long and so earnestly gazed he, that her cheek deepened to a more and more crimson tint as each line was a
o you, Mr. Smith, to take so
e of the song that I was noticing: I
Mr.
stranger to a secluded spot, you think I must needs come from a life of bustle, and know the latest
experienced, or-much to mind. That's why I don't mind singing airs to you that I only half know.' Finding that by this confession she had vexed him in a way she did not intend,
vour. 'It must be delightfully poeti
nough to own the truth, think just the reverse: that my life must be a dreadful bor
onscious revelation that Elfride was startled to find that her harmonies
n't live he
imself in with the sen
ities-love of admiration-caused an inflammable disposition on his part, so exactly simila