he gates were ope ned, the drawbridge down and an escort waiting to take her back to her father's lands, if she would." "What did she do?" "She looked at him long?and long. She turned proudly aw ay?in the sea-blue eyes were heavy and stormy tears, which seeing??" "Ah, he saw them?" from Miss Vanderpoel. "Yes. And seizing her in his arms caught her to his breast, calling for a p..
than once at a pa ir of big, unhappy blue eyes, whose owner sat against the wall. Betty Vanderpoel herself was not thinking of Tommy. In fact, during this brilliant evening she faced still further developments of her own strange case. Certain new things were happening to her. When she had entered the ballroom she had known at once who the man was who stood before the royal gues..
the strangeness of it, but caught back his breath and recovered himself. "Died to-day! That's recent enough," he jeered. "Let us hear about it. Who was it?" "It was Mount Dunstan," she flung at him. "The church-bells were tolling for him when I rode away. I could not stay to hear them. It killed me?I loved him. You were right when you said it. I loved him, though he never knew..
ragged little enc losing gardens. Then the air and sunshine had been of the just awakening spring, now the sky was brightly cold, and through the small-paned windows she caught glimpses of fireglow. A bent old man walking very slowly, leaning upon two sticks, had a red-brown woollen muffler wrapped round his neck. Seeing her, he stopped and shuffled the two sticks into one hand..
rament run away w ith you at this moment," she reflected aloud?her quiet scrutiny almost abstracted. "It was foolish to say that." He had known it was foolish two seconds after the words had left his lips. But a temper which has been allowed to leap hedges, unchecked throughout life, is in peril of forming a habit of taking them even at such times as a leap may land its owner i..
d this a couple o f benches and a few chairs had been placed. Some of the Methodists were resting on these, with their eyes closed, as if wrapt in prayer or meditation. Others chose to continue standing, and had turned their faces towards the villagers with a look of melancholy compassion, which was highly amusing to Bessy Cranage, the blacksmith's buxom daughter, known to her ..
the nightingales throwing 'm into the air silver fountains of trilling song. When Bettina paused, leaning against the balustrade of the terrace that she might hear all the beauty of it, and feel all the beauty of the warm spring night, Rosy went on making her effort to talk. "It is not much of a neighbourhood, Betty," she said. "You are too accustomed to livelier places to lik..
d poultices, cryi ng until her nose and eyes were red, and pouring forth her hopes and fears to any neighbour who came in or out or hung over the dividing garden hedge. If the patient died, the deeper her mourning and the louder her sobs at his funeral the more respectable and deserving of sympathy and admiration would Jenny Buttle have been counted. Her ladyship's rich America..
, like the pictur e in the Bible?' "That man of God was Mr. Wesley, who spent his life in doing what our blessed Lord did?preaching the Gospel to the poor?and he entered into his rest eight years ago. I came to know more about him years after, but I was a foolish thoughtless child then, and I remembered only one thing he told us in his sermon. He told us as 'Gospel' meant 'good..
a life which had been passed tramping up and down numbered streets and avenues. They approached at last a second village with a green, a grass-grown street and the irregular red-tiled cottages, which to the unaccustomed eye seemed rather to represent studies for sketches than absolute realities. The bells in the church tower broke forth into a chime and people appeared at the ..