icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Sword and Gown

Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 2239    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

for he was, unluckily, of a convivial turn of mind wholly incompatible with delicate health and a frail constitution. Being a favorite with the world in general, he felt bound, I suppose, to recip

y ones), he would cry on waking, just as another man would call for brandy and soda; and, strange to say, the presence of those innocents seemed to have a similarly invigorating and refreshing effect: during all that day he would make pilgrimages to their cribs, and gaze upon them sleeping with the reverence of an old dévote kneeling before the shrine of her most efficacious saint. Then he would go forth, and return with a present for his wife, bearing an exact proportion in value to the extent and duration of the past misdemeanor; so that her jewel-case and writing-table soon became as prettily suggestive as the votive chapel of N?tre Dame des Dunes. Very unnecessary were these peace-offerings; for that

of mind. Now, in the very tightest state of the money-market, Harry was never known to disquiet himself in vain. He would not borrow from any of his comrades, refusing all such proffers of assistance gratefully but consistently. No Mussulman ever equaled his contented reliance on the resources of futurity, and his implicit belief in the same. He would anchor his hopes on some such improbability as "a long shot coming off," or "his Aunt Agnes coming down" (a proverbially awful widow, who had forgiven him seven times already; and, after each fresh offense, had sworn unrelenting enmity to him and his heirs forever). Strong in this faith, he met condoling friends with a pleasant, reassuring smile: with the same demeanor he confronted threatening creditors. He used no art

s little trouble as possible; but was grateful to a degree for every thing that was done for him: he could even manage to thank people for their advice, whether he too

posing themselves: indeed, if they are useful at all in their generation, it is in a singularly modest and unobtrusive way. Yet there is an attraction about them, a power of attachment, that the great and wise ones of the earth have appreciated and envied, ere now. It is curious, too, to see what an apparent contradiction to themselves the extremes of the class-those who exaggerate nonchalance into insensibility, and softness into effeminacy-have shown, when brought face to face with imminent peril or

I

er the few words that opened this stor

ic about Dorade and its advantages, describing it as a sort of happy hu

eal. I think he had been dr

he is up to his girths in a squire-trap, never halloos ''ware bog,' till five or six more are in it. I can fancy the hoary-headed villain gloating hideously over us now. I wish I had him here. I could be so unkind to him!

on my account; but I didn't like to ask you about it. I'm so horribly selfish!" T

t. Besides the nuisance and chance work of picking up a stud in the middle of the season, it isn't pleasant to be consoled for a blank day by, 'you should have been here last month. Never was such scent; and h

e half started up, clapping his

o warrant all that indecent exultation

silyan (they're immense friends, you know) to ask her to engage roo

who would have kept that intelligence at the back of his head so long. The Tresilyan, of course? I remember hearing about her in India. Annesley came back from sick leave perfectly insane on the subject. She must be something extr

ght him out in great form before long. They were talking over their preparations for the moors, for they were going to start the next day. 'I believe that's all,' Margate asked, 'or have we forgotten any thing?' 'Wait a minute,' said Tom, and reflected (provident man, Tom; fond of his comforts, and proud of it)-'Ah! I thought there was something. You haven't proposed to The Tresilyan.' They say Margate's face was a study. He never disputed the orders of his private trainer, so he only said, piteously, 'But I don't want to marry any one,' and looked as if he was going to cry. 'You are "ower young,"' Cary said, encouragingly, 'and it's about the last

he said. "What a luxury, in this God-forgotten place, to talk

everal other virtues too. She is coming here for the health of some companion, or governess, who lives with her. Yet she flirts

owly. "Let us go home now. Draw your pla

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open