Albert Bierstadt paintings

Rosanna (to put the Person before the Thing, which is but common politeness) was the only new servant in our house. About four months before the time I am writing of, my lady had been in London, and had gone over a reformatory, intended to save forlorn women from drifting back into bad ways, after they had got released from prison. The matron, seeing my lady took an interest in the place, pointed out a girl to her, named Rosanna Spearman, and told her a most miserable story, which I haven't the heart to repeat here; for I don't like to be made wretched without any use, and no more do you. The upshot of i

Thomas Kinkade Living Waters painting

match the dress. Come now, sit in."
"I don't see how I'm going to eat breakfast," said Anne rapturously. "Breakfast seems so commonplace at such an exciting moment. I'd rather feast my eyes on that dress. I'm so glad that puffed sleeves are still fashionable. It did seem to me that I'd never get over it if they went out before I had a dress with them. I'd never have felt quite satisfied, you see. It was lovely of Mrs. Lynde to give me the ribbon too. I feel that I ought to be a very good girl indeed. It's at times like this I'm sorry I'm not a model little girl; and I always resolve that I will be in future. But somehow it's hard to carry out your resolutions when irresistible temptations come. Still, I really will make an extra effort after this."
When the commonplace breakfast was over Diana appeared, crossing the white log bridge in the hollow, a gay little figure in her crimson ulster. Anne flew down the slope to meet her.
"Merry Christmas, Diana! And oh, it's a wonderful Christmas. I've something splendid to show you. Matthew has given me the loveliest dress, with such sleeves. I couldn't even imagine any nicer."

Daniel Ridgway Knight A Passing Conversation painting

her mother told her she could ask me to go home with her from school and stay all night with her. And her cousins are coming over from Newbridge in a big pung sleigh to go to the Debating Club concert at the hall tomorrow night. And they are going to take Diana and me to the concert--if you'll let me go, that is. You will, won't you, Marilla? Oh, I feel so excited."
"You can calm down then, because you're not going. You're better at home in your own bed, and as for that club concert, it's all nonsense, and little girls should not be allowed to go out to such places at all."
"I'm sure the Debating Club is a most respectable affair," pleaded Anne.
"I'm not saying it isn't. But you're not going to begin gadding about to concerts and staying out all

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Madame Defarge cast down her eyes, and reflected a little. `The child also,' observed Jacques Three, with a meditative enjoyment of his words, `has golden hair and blue eyes. And we seldom have a child there. It is a pretty sight!'
`In a word,' said Madame Defarge, coming out of her short abstraction, `I cannot trust my husband in this matter.
Not only do I feel, since last night, that I dare not confide to him the details of my projects; but also I feel that if I delay, there is danger of his giving warning, and then they might escape.
`That must never be,' croaked Jacques Three; `no one must escape. We have not half enough as it is. We ought to have six score a day.'
`In a word,' Madame Defarge went on, `my husband has not my reason for pursuing this family to annihilation, and I have not his reason for regarding this Doctor with any sensibility. I must act for myself, therefore. Come hither, little citizen.
The wood-sawyer, who held her in the respect, and himself in the submission, of mortal fear, advanced with his hand to his red

Aubrey Beardsley paintings

narrative he had heard, he had heard his condemnation. He had fully comprehended that no personal influence could possibly save him, that he was virtually sentenced by the millions, and that units could avail him nothing.
Nevertheless, it was not easy, with the face of his beloved wife fresh before him, to compose his mind to what it must bear. His hold on life was strong, and it was very, very hard to loosen; by gradual efforts and degrees unclosed a little here, it clenched the tighter there; and when he brought his strength to bear on that hand and it yielded, this was closed again. There was a hurry, too, in all his thoughts, a turbulent and heated working of his heart, that contended against resignation. If for a moment, he did feel resigned, then his wife and child who had to live after him, seemed to protest and to make it a selfish thing.
But, all this was at first. Before long, the consideration that there was no disgrace in the fate he must meet, and that numbers went the same road wrongfully, and trod it firmly every day, sprang up to stimulate him. Next followed the thought that much of the future peace of mind enjoyable by the dear ones, depended on his quiet fortitude. So, by degrees he calmed into the better state, when he could raise his thoughts much higher, and draw comfort down.

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They laid themselves down to sleep again, and then the tailor threw a stone down on the second.
"What is the meaning of this?" cried the other. "Why are you pelting me?"
"I am not pelting you," answered the first, growling.
They disputed about it for a time, but as they were weary they let the matter rest, and their eyes closed once more. The little tailor began his game again, picked out the biggest stone, and threw it with all his might on the breast of the first giant.
"That is too bad!" cried he, and sprang up like a madman, and pushed his companion against the tree until it shook. The other paid him back in the same coin, and they got into such a rage that they tore up trees and belabored each other so long, that at last they both fell down dead on the ground at the same time. Then the little tailor leapt down.

Alfred Gockel paintings

nicht Hand noch Fuß regen. Nun war die Sonne unter; die Eule flog in einen Strauch, und gleich darauf kam eine alte krumme Frau aus diesem hervor, gelb und mager: große rote Augen, krumme Nase, die mit der Spitze ans Kinn reichte. Sie murmelte, fing die Nachtigall und trug sie auf der Hand fort. Joringel konnte nichts sagen, nicht von der Stelle kommen; die Nachtigall war fort.
Endlich kam das Weib wieder und sagte mit dumpfer Stimme: "Grüß dich, Zachiel, wenn's Möndel ins Körbel scheint, bind lose Zachiel, zu guter Stund."
Da wurde Joringel los. Er fiel vor dem Weib auf die Knie und bat, sie möchte ihm seine Jorinde wiedergeben, aber sie sagte, er sollte sie nie wiederhaben, und ging fort. Er rief, er weinte, er jammerte, aber alles umsonst. "Uu, was soll mir geschehen?"
Joringel ging fort und kam endlich in ein fremdes Dorf; da hütete er die Schafe lange Zeit. Oft ging er rund um das Schloß herum, aber nicht zu nahe dabei. Endlich träumte er einmal des Nachts, er fände

Fabian Perez Tango painting

daybreak, he began to feel tired. Hunger also tormented him, for in his joy at the bargain by which he got the cow he had eaten up all his store of food at once. At last he could only go on with great trouble, and was forced to stop every minute, the stones, too, weighed him down dreadfully. Then he could not help thinking how nice it would be if he had not to carry them just then.
He crept like a snail to a well in a field, and there he thought that he would rest and refresh himself with a cool draught of water, but in order that he might not injure the stones in sitting down, he laid them carefully by his side on the edge of the well. Then he sat down on it, and was to stoop and drink, when he made a slip, pushed against the stones, and both of them fell into the water.
When Hans saw them with his own eyes sinking tobottom, he jumped for joy, and then knelt down, and with tears in his eyes thanked God for having shown him this favor also, and delivered him in so good a way, and without his having any need to reproach himself, from those heavy stones which had been the only things that troubled him.

Edgar Degas paintings

hr mit den Augen nach, aber die Kugel verschwand, und der Brunnen war tief, und gar kein Grund zu sehen. Da fing sie an zu weinen, und weinte immer lauter, und konnte sich gar nicht tr鰏ten.
Und wie sie so klagte, rief ihr jemand zu "was hast du vor, K鰊igstochter, du schreist ja da?sich ein Stein erbarmen m鯿hte". Sie sah sich um, woher die Stimme k鋗e, da erblickte sie einen Frosch, der seinen dicken h溥lichen Kopf aus dem Wasser streckte.
"Ach, du bists, alter Wasserpatscher", sagte sie, "ich weine 黚er meine goldne Kugel, die mir in den Brunnen hinab gefallen ist."
"Gib dich zufrieden", antwortete der Frosch, "ich kann wohl Rat schaffen, aber was gibst du mir, wenn ich dein Spielwerk wieder heraufhole?"
"Was du willst, lieber Frosch", sagte sie, "meine Kleider, meine Perlen und Edelsteine, dazu die goldne Krone, die ich trage."

childe hassam Poppies Isles of Shoals painting

What sort of thing is that, that rattles round so merrily," said the girl, and she took the spindle and wanted to spin too. But scarcely had she touched the spindle when the magic decree was fulfilled, and she pricked her finger with it.
And, in the very moment when she felt the prick, she fell down upon the bed that stood there, and lay in a deep sleep. And this sleep extended over the whole palace, the king and queen who had just come home, and had entered the great hall, began to go to sleep, and the whole of the court with them. The horses, too, went to sleep in the stable, the dogs in the yard, the pigeons upon the roof, the flies on the wall, even the fire that was flaming on the hearth became quiet and slept, the roast meat left off frizzling, and the cook, who was just going to pull the hair of the scullery boy, because he had forgotten something, let him go, and went to sleep. And the wind fell, and on the trees before the castle not a leaf moved again.
But round about the castle there began to grow a

Thomas Kinkade The Rose Garden painting

legte es in ihren Arm und gab ihm zu trinken. Dann schüttelte sie ihm sein Kißchen, legte es wieder hinein. Sie vergaß aber auch das Rehchen nicht, ging in die Ecke, wo es lag, und streichelte ihm über den Rücken. Darauf ging sie wieder zur Tür hinaus, und die Kinderfrau fragte am andern Morgen die Wächter, ob jemand während der Nacht ins Schloß gegangen wäre, aber sie antworteten: "Nein, wir haben niemand gesehen." So kam sie viele Nächte und sprach niemals ein Wort dabei; die Kinderfrau sah sie immer, aber sie getraute sich nicht, jemand etwas davon zu sagen.
Als nun so eine Zeit verflossen war, da hub die Königin in der Nacht an zu reden und sprach:
"Was macht mein Kind?Was macht mein Reh?Nun komm' ich noch zweimalUnd dann nimmermehr."
Die Kinderfrau antwortete ihr nicht, aber als sie wieder verschwunden war, ging sie zum König und erzählte ihm alles. Sprach der König: "Ach Gott, was ist das? Ich will in der nächsten Nacht bei dem Kinde wachen." Abends ging er in die Kinderstube, aber um Mitternacht erschien die Königin und sprach:

Thomas Kinkade London painting

dankte ihm, ging zu seiner Mutter Grab und pflanzte das Reis darauf, und weinte so sehr, da?die Tr鋘en darauf niederfielen und es begossen. Es wuchs aber, und ward ein sch鰊er Baum. Aschenputtel ging alle Tage dreimal darunter, weinte und betete, und allemal kam ein wei遝s V鰃lein auf den Baum, und wenn es einen Wunsch aussprach, so warf ihm das V鰃lein herab, was es sich gew黱scht hatte.
Es begab sich aber, da?der K鰊ig ein Fest anstellte, das drei Tage dauern sollte, und wozu alle sch鰊en Jungfrauen im Lande eingeladen wurden, damit sich sein Sohn eine Braut aussuchen m鯿hte. Die zwei Stiefschwestern, als sie h鰎ten, da?sie auch dabei erscheinen sollten, waren guter Dinge, riefen Aschenputtel und sprachen "K鋗m uns die Haare, b黵ste uns die Schuhe und mache uns die Schnallen fest, wir gehen zur Hochzeit auf des K鰊igs Schlo?" Aschenputtel gehorchte, weinte aber, weil es auch gern zum Tanz mitgegangen w鋜e, und bat die Stiefmutter, sie m鯿hte es ihm erlauben

Allan R.Banks paintings

there were none more common than those by which they engaged to remain incognito for a certain space, or until some particular adventure was achieved. The marshals, therefore, pressed no further into the mystery of the Disinherited Knight, but, announcing to Prince John the conqueror’s desire to remain unknown, they requested permission to bring him before his Grace, in order that he might receive the reward of his valour.
John’s curiosity was excited by the mystery observed by the stranger; and, being already displeased with the issue of the tournament, in which the challengers whom he favoured had been successively defeated by one knight, he answered haughtily to the marshals, “By the light of Our Lady’s brow, this same knight hath been disinherited as well of his courtesy as of his lands, since he desires to appear before us without uncovering his face.—Wot ye, my lords,” he said, turning round to his train, “who this gallant can be, that bears himself thus proudly?”
“I cannot guess,” answered De Bracy, “nor did I think there had been within the four seas that girth Britain a champion that could bear down

Vincent van Gogh Irises painting

indeed a house of death to which I had come, too late? I know that minutes, even seconds of delay, might mean hours of danger to Lucy, if she had had again one of those frightful relapses, and I went round the house to try if I could find by chance an entry anywhere. I could find no means of ingress. Every window and door was fastened and locked, and I returned baffled to the porch. As I did so, I heard the rapid pit-pat of a swiftly driven horse’s feet. They stopped at the gate, and a few seconds later I met Van Helsing running up the avenue. When he saw me, he gasped out, “Then it was you, and just arrived. How is she? Are we too late? Did you not get my telegram?”
I answered as quickly and coherently as I could that I had only got his telegram early in the morning, and had not a minute in coming here, and that I could not make any one in the house hear me. He paused and raised his hat as he said solemnly, “Then I fear we are too late. God’s will be done!”

Peder Mork Monsted paintings

remain insensible to milady’s seductions. He desired Kitty to tell her mistress that he was most grateful for her kindnesses, and that he would be obedient to her orders. But he dare not write, for fear of not being able sufficiently to disguise his writing to deceive such experienced eyes as milady’s.
As nine o’clock was striking, D’Artagnan was at the Place Royale.
Milady assumed the most friendly air possible, and conversed with more than her usual brilliancy. At the same time the fever, which for an instant had left her, returned to give lustre to her eyes, colour to her cheeks, and vermilion to her lips. D’Artagnan was again in the presence of the Circe who had before surrounded him with her enchantment. His love, which he believed to be extinct, but which was only asleep, awoke again in his heart. Milady smiled, and D’Artagnan felt that he could go to perdition for that smile.
There was a moment when he felt something like remorse.
By degrees milady became more communicative. She asked D’Artagnan if he had a mistress.

Edward Hopper Ground Swell painting

ed him like his shadow. He went after him that night and saw him pass through the doorway. Of course
-152-he thought he had taken refuge in the fort and applied for admission there himself next day, but could find no trace of Achmet. This seemed to him so strange that he spoke about it to a sergeant of guides, who brought it to the ears of the commandant. A thorough search was quickly made, and the body was discovered. Thus at the very moment that we thought that all was safe we were all four seized and brought to trial on a charge of murder -- three of us because we had held the gate that night, and the fourth because he was known to have been in the company of the murdered man. Not a word about the jewels came out at the trial, for the rajah had been deposed and driven out of India: so no one had any particular interest in them. The murder, however, was clearly made out, and it was certain that we must all have been concerned in it. The three Sikhs got penal servitude for life, and I was condemned to death, though my sentence was afterwards commuted to the same as the others.

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seventy miles up the Yukon, swung to the left into the Stewart River, passed the Mayo and the McQueston, and held on until the Stewart itself became a streamlet, threading the upstanding peaks which marked the backbone of the continent.
John Thornton asked little of man or nature. He was unafraid of the wild. With a handful of salt and a rifle he could plunge into the wilderness and fare wherever he pleased and as long as he pleased. Being in no haste, Indian fashion, he hunted his dinner in the course of the day’s travel; and if he failed to find it, like the Indian, he kept on travelling, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later he would come to it. So, on this great journey into the East, straight meat was the bill of fare, ammuntion and tools principally made up the load on the sled, and the time-card was drawn upon the limitless future.
To Buck it was boundless delight, this hunting, fishing, and indefinite wandering through strange places. For weeks at a time they would hold on

China oil paintings

Barthol'mew my page,And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber;And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.Tell him from me, as he will win my love,He bear himself with honourable action,Such as he hath observed in noble ladiesUnto their lords, by them accomplished:Such duty to the drunkard let him doWith soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,And say 'What is't your honour will command,Wherein your lady and your humble wifeMay show her duty and make known her love?'And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,And with declining head into his bosom,Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'dTo see her noble lord restored to health,Who for this seven years hath esteem'd himNo better than a poor and loathsome beggar:And if the boy have not a woman's giftTo rain a shower of commanded tears,An onion will do well for such a shift,Which in a napkin being close convey'dShall in despite enforce a watery eye.See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst:Anon I'll give thee more instructions.
[Exit a Servingman]
I know the boy will well usurp the grace,Voice, gait and action of a gentlewoman:I long to hear him call the drunkard husband

Emile Munier paintings

Oh! that my dear mother had more command over herself; she can have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But I will not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before.''
Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said nothing.
``You doubt me,'' cried Jane, slightly colouring; ``indeed you have no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not that pain. A little time therefore. -- I shall certainly try to get the better.''
With a stronger voice she soon added, ``I have this comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it has done no harm to any one but myself.''

William Bouguereau The Wave painting

Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;Then, for the third part of a minute, hence;Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings,To make my small elves coats, and some keep backThe clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wondersAt our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep;Then to your offices and let me rest.
[The Fairies sing]
You spotted snakes with double tongue,Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,Come not near our fairy queen.Philomel, with melodySing in our sweet lullaby;Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby:Never harm,Nor spell nor charm,Come our lovely lady nigh;So, good night, with lullaby.Weaving spiders, come not here;Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!Beetles black, approach not near;Worm nor snail, do no offence.Philomel, with melody, &c.
Fairy
Hence, away! now all is well:One aloof stand sentinel.
[Exeunt Fairies. TITANIA sleeps]
[Enter OBERON and squeezes the flower on TITANIA's eyelids]

Sargent Sargent Poppies painting

Paris, more vague than the ocean, glimmered before Emma’s eyes in an atmosphere of vermilion. The many lives that stirred amid this tumult were, however, divided into parts, classed as distinct pictures. Emma perceived only two or three that hid from her all the rest, and in themselves represented all humanity. The world of ambassadors moved over polished floors in drawing rooms lined with mirrors, round oval tables covered with velvet and gold-fringed cloths. There were dresses with trains, deep mysteries, anguish hidden beneath smiles. Then came the society of the duchesses; all were pale; all got up at four o’clock; the women, poor angels, wore English point on their petticoats; and the men, unappreciated geniuses under a frivolous outward seeming, rode horses to death at pleasure parties, spent the summer season at Baden, and towards the forties married heiresses. In the private rooms of restaurants, where one sups after midnight by the light of wax candles, laughed the motley crowd of men of letters and actresses. They were prodigal as kings, full of ideal, ambitious, fantastic frenzy. This

oil painting from picture

What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour?
PORTIA
That he hath a neighbourly charity in him, for heborrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman andswore he would pay him again when he was able: Ithink the Frenchman became his surety and sealedunder for another.
NERISSA
How like you the young German, the Duke of Saxony's nephew?
PORTIA
Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober, andmost vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk: whenhe is best, he is a little worse than a man, andwhen he is worst, he is little better than a beast:and the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shallmake shift to go without him.
NERISSA
If he should offer to choose, and choose the rightcasket, you should refuse to perform your father'swill, if you should refuse to accept him.

Picasso The Old Guitarist painting

Well, I hope you left some suitable excuse," said her husband, somewhat appeased, as he added a dash of cayenne pepper to the soup.
"No, I left no excuse. I told Joe to say I was out, that was all."
"Why, my dear, I should think you'd understand by this time that people don't do such things; we've got to observe les convenancesif we ever expect to get on and keep up with the procession. If you felt that you had to leave home this afternoon,
-131-you should have left some suitable explanation for your absence.
"This soup is really impossible; it's strange that woman hasn't learned yet to make a decent soup. Any free-lunch stand in town serves a better one. Was Mrs. Belthrop here?"
"Bring the tray with the cards, Joe. I don't remember who was here."
The boy retired and returned after a moment, bringing the tiny silver tray, which was covered with ladies' visiting cards. He handed it to Mrs. Pontellier.
"Give it to Mr. Pontellier," she said.

Jehan Georges Vibert paintings

followed a rather heated argument; the two women did not appear to understand each other or to be talking the same language. Edna tried to appease her friend, to explain.
"I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my life for my children; but I wouldn't give myself. I can't make it more clear; it's only something which I am beginning to comprehend, which is revealing itself to me."
"I don't know what you would call the essential, or what you mean by the unessential," said Madame Ratignolle, cheerfully; "but a woman who would give her life for her children could do no more than that -- your Bible tells you so. I'm sure I couldn't do more than that."
"Oh, yes you could!" laughed Edna.
She was not surprised at Mademoiselle Reisz's question the morning that lady, following her to the beach, tapped her on the shoulder and asked if she did not greatly miss her young friend.
"Oh, good morning, Mademoiselle; is it

China oil paintings

Esmeralda blanched and swayed as she descended the steps of the pillory, the voice of the recluse pursuing her as she went: “Come down! come down! Ah, thou Egyptian thief, thou shalt yet return there again!”
“The sachette is in one of her tantrums,” murmured the people; but they went no further, for these women were feared, which made them sacred. In those days they were shy of attacking a person who prayed day and night.
The hour had now arrived for releasing Quasimodo. They unfastened him from the pillory, and the crowd dispersed.Near the Grand-Pont, Mahiette, who was going away with her companions, suddenly stopped. “Eustache,” she said, “what hast thou done with the cake?”
“Mother,” answered the child, “while you were talking to the dame in the hole a great dog came and took a bite of my cake, and so then I too had a bite.”

Stiltz BV Beauty painting

on as Lady Middleton could spare them. This was enough to make Lucy really and reasonably happy. Mrs. Dashwood seemed actually working for her herself, cherishing all her hopes, and promoting all her views! Such an opportunity of being with Edward and his family was, above all things, the most material to her interest, and such an invitation the most gratifying to her feelings! It was an advantage that could not be too gratefully acknowledged, nor too speedily made use of; and the visit to Lady Middleton, which had not before had any precise limits, was instantly discovered to have been always meant to end in two days time.
When the note was shewn to Elinor, as it was within ten minutes after its arrival, it gave her, for the first time, some share in the expectations of Lucy; for such a mark of uncommon kindness, vouchsafed on so short an acquaintance, seemed to declare that the good-will towards her arose from something more than merely malice against herself, and might be brought, by time and address, to do everything that Lucy wished. Her flattery had already subdued the pride of Lady Middleton, and made an entry into the close heart of Mrs. John Dashwood; and these were effects that laid open the probability of greater.

Federico Andreotti paintings

"For my own part," said he, "I am excessively fond of a cottage; there is always so much comfort, so much elegance about them. And I protest, if I had any money to spare, I should buy a little land and build one myself, within a short distance of London, where I might drive myself down at any time, and collect a few friends about me, and be happy. I advise everybody who is going to build, to build a cottage. My friend Lord Courtland came to me the other day on purpose to ask my advice, and laid before me three different plans of Bonomi's. I was to decide on the best of them. 'My dear Courtland,' said I, immediately throwing them all into the fire, 'do not adopt either of them, but by all means build a cottage.' And that, I fancy, will be the end of it.
"Some people imagine that there can be no accommodations, no space in a cottage; but this is all a mistake. I was last month at my friend Elliott's near Dartford. Lady Elliott wished to give a dance. 'But how can it be done?' said she; 'my dear Ferrars, do tell me how it is to be managed. There is not a room in this cottage that will hold ten couple, and where can the

contemporary abstract painting

moreover, was generally concluded with a compliment, which though meant as its douceur, was considered by Marianne as the greatest impertinence of all; for after undergoing an examination into the value and make of her gown, the colour of her shoes, and the arrangement of her hair, she was almost sure of being told that upon "her word she looked vastly smart, and she dared to say would make a great many conquests."
With such encouragement as this, was she dismissed on the present occasion to her brother's carriage; which they were ready to enter five minutes after it stopped at the door, a punctuality not very agreeable to their sister-in-law, who had preceded them to the house of her acquaintance, and was there hoping for some delay on their part that might inconvenience either herself or her coachman.
The events of the evening were not very remarkable. The party, like other musical parties, comprehended a great many people who had real taste for the performance, and a great many

Perez the face of tango ii painting

way at our leisure into Switzerland, via Luxembourg and Basle."
At Canterbury, therefore, we alighted, only to find that we should have to wait an hour before we could get a train to Newhaven.
I was still looking rather ruefully after the rapidly disappearing luggage-van which contained my wardrobe, when Holmes pulled my sleeve and pointed up the line.
"Already, you see," said he.
Far away, from among the Kentish woods there rose a thin spray of smoke. A minute later a carriage and engine could be seen flying along the open curve which leads to the station. We had hardly time to take our place behind a pile of luggage when it passed with a rattle and a roar, beating a blast of hot air into our faces. "There he goes," said Holmes, as we watched the carriage swing and rock over the points. "There are limits, you see, to our friend's intelligence. It would have been a coup-de-maitre had he deduced what I would deduce and acted accordingly."
"And what would he have done had he overtaken us?"

Dirck Bouts paintings

which was marked "Engaged." My only source of anxiety now was the non-appearance of Holmes. The station clock marked only seven minutes from the time when we were due to start. In vain I searched among the groups of travellers and leave-takers for the lithe figure of my friend. There was no sign of him. I spent a few minutes in assisting a venerable Italian priest, who was endeavouring to make a porter understand, in his broken English, that his luggage was to be booked through to Paris. Then, having taken another look round, I returned to my carriage, where I found that the porter, in spite of the ticket, had given me my decrepit Italian friend as a travelling companion. It was useless for me to explain to him that his presence was an intrusion, for my Italian was even more limited than his English, so I shrugged my shoulders resignedly, and continued to look out anxiously for my friend. A chill of fear had come over me, as I thought that his absence might mean that some blow had fallen during the night. Already the doors had all been shut and the whistle blown, when --
"My dear Watson," said a voice, you have not even condescended to say good-morning."
I turned in uncontrollable astonishment. The aged ecclesiastic had turned his face towards me. For an instant the wrinkles were smoothed away, the nose drew away from the chin, the lower lip ceased to protrude and the mouth to mumble, the dull eyes regained their fire, the drooping figure expanded. The next the whole frame collapsed again, and Holmes had gone as quickly as he had come.

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myself by the fraction of a second. The van dashed round by Marylebone Lane and was gone in an instant. I kept to the pavement after that, Watson, but as I walked down Vere Street a brick came down from the roof of one of the houses and was shattered to fragments at my feet. I called the police and had the place examined. There were slates and bricks piled up on the roof preparatory to some repairs, and they would have me believe that the wind had toppled over one of these. Of course I knew better, but I could prove nothing. I took a cab after that and reached my brother's rooms in Pall Mall, where I spent the day. Now I have come round to you, and on my way I was attacked by a rough with a bludgeon. I knocked him down, and the police have him in custody; but I can tell you with the most absolute confidence that no possible connection will ever be traced between the gentleman upon whose front teeth I have barked my knuckles and the retiring mathematical coach, who is, I daresay, working out problems upon a black-board ten miles away. You will not wonder, Watson, that my first act on entering your rooms was to close your shutters, and that I have been compelled to ask your permission to leave the house by some less conspicuous exit than the front door."

Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings

Yet you understand May!''
He reddened under the retort, but kept his eyes on her. ``May is ready to give me up.''
``What! Three days after you've entreated her on your knees to hasten your marriage?''
``She's refused; that gives me the right -- ''
``Ah, you've taught me what an ugly word that is,'' she said.
He turned away with a sense of utter weariness. He felt as though he had been struggling for hours up the face of a steep precipice, and now, just as he had fought his way to the top, his hold had given way and he was pitching down headlong into darkness.
If he could have got her in his arms again he might have swept away her arguments; but she still held him at a distance by something inscrutably aloof in her look and attitude, and by his own awed sense of her sincerity. At length he began to plead again.
``If we do this now it will be worse afterward -- worse for every one -- ''
``No -- no -- no!'' she almost screamed, as if he frightened her.
At that moment the bell sent a long tinkle through the house. They had heard no carriage stopping at the door, and they stood motionless, looking at each other with startled eyes.
Outside, Nastasia's step crossed the hall, the outer door opened, and a moment later she came in carrying a telegram which she handed to the Countess Olenska.

Church Landscape in the Adirondacks painting

She gave him back all his kiss, but after a moment he felt her stiffening in his arms, and she put him aside and stood up.
``Ah, my poor Newland -- I suppose this had to be. But it doesn't in the least alter things,'' she said, looking down at him in her turn from the hearth.
``It alters the whole of life for me.''
``No, no -- it mustn't, it can't. You're engaged to May Welland; and I'm married.''
He stood up too, flushed and resolute. ``Nonsense! It's too late for that sort of thing. We've no right to lie to other people or to ourselves. We won't talk of your marriage; but do you see me marrying May after this?''
She stood silent, resting her thin elbows on the mantelpiece, her profile reflected in the glass behind her. One of the locks of her chignon had become loosened and hung on her neck; she looked haggard and almost old.
``I don't see you,'' she said at length, ``putting that question to May. Do you?''
He gave a reckless shrug. ``It's too late to do anything else.''
``You say that because it's the easiest thing to say at this moment -- not because it's true. In reality it's too late to do anything but what we'd both decided on.''

Robinson Valley of the Seine Giverny painting

Yes.''
``I had nothing to fear from that letter: absolutely nothing! All I feared was to bring notoriety, scandal, on the family -- on you and May.''
``Good God,'' he groaned again, bowing his face in his hands.
The silence that followed lay on them with the weight of things final and irrevocable. It seemed to Archer to be crushing him down like his own grave-stone; in all the wide future he saw nothing that would ever lift that load from his heart. He did not move from his place, or raise his head from his hands; his hidden eyeballs went on staring into utter darkness.
``At least I loved you -- '' he brought out.
On the other side of the hearth, from the sofa-corner where he supposed that she still crouched, he heard a
-169-faint stifled crying like a child's. He started up and came to her side.
``Ellen! What madness! Why are you crying? Nothing's done that can't be undone. I'm still free, and you're going to be.'' He had her in his arms, her face like a wet flower at his lips, and all their vain terrors shrivelling up like ghosts at sunrise. The one thing that astonished him now was that he should have stood for five minutes arguing with her across the width of the room, when just touching her made everything so simple.

Aubrey Beardsley paintings

Archer reddened, and hurried on with a rush. ``We had a frank talk -- almost the first. She thinks my impatience a bad sign.''
``Merciful heavens -- a bad sign?''
``She thinks it means that I can't trust myself to go
-166-on caring for her. She thinks, in short, I want to marry her at once to get away from some one that I -- care for more.''
Madame Olenska examined this curiously. ``But if she thinks that -- why isn't she in a hurry too?''
``Because she's not like that: she's so much nobler. She insists all the more on the long engagement, to give me time -- ''
``Time to give her up for the other woman?''
``If I want to.''
Madame Olenska leaned toward the fire and gazed into it with fixed eyes. Down the quiet street Archer heard the approaching trot of her horses.
``That is noble,'' she said, with a slight break in her voice.

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"I wish I had our Dinah here, I know I do!" said Alice aloud, addressing nobody in particular. "She'd soon fetch it back!"
"And who is Dinah, if I might venture to ask the question?" said the Lory.
Alice replied eagerly, for she was always ready to talk about her pet: "Dinah's our cat. And she's such a capital one for catching mice, you can't think! And oh, I wish you could see her after the birds! Why, she'll eat a little bird as soon as look at it!"
This speech caused a remarkable sensation among the party. Some of the birds hurried off at once: one old Magpie began wrapping itself up very carefully, remarking, "I really must be getting home; the night-air doesn't suit my throat!" and a Canary called out in a trembling voice to its children, "Come away, my dears! It's high time you were all in bed!" On various pretexts they all moved off, and Alice was soon left alone.
"I wish I hadn't mentioned Dinah!" she said to herself in a melancholy tone. "Nobody seems to like her, down here, and I'm sure she's the best cat

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This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence. at last the Dodo said, "Everybody has won, and all must have prizes."
"But who is to give the prizes?" quite a chorus of voices asked.
"Why, she, of course," said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with one finger; and the whole party at once crowded round her, calling out in a confused way, "Prizes! Prizes!"
Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand in her pocket, and pulled out a box of
-39-comfits (luckily the salt water had not got into it), and handed them round as prizes. There was exactly one a-piece all round.

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THEY were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the bank -- the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their fur clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and uncomfortable.
The first question of course was, how to get dry again: they had a consultation about this, and after a few minutes it seemed quite natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with them, as if she had known them all her life, she had quite a long argument with the Lory, who at last turned sulky, and would only say, "I am older than you, and must know better"; and this Alice would not allow without knowing how old it was, and, as the Lory positively refused to tell its age, there was no more to be said.
At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among them, called out, "Sit down, all of you, and listen to me! I'll soon make you dry

Albert Bierstadt paintings

Just then she heard something splashing about the pool a little way off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was: at first she thought it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then she remembered how small she was now, and she soon
-29-made out that it was only a mouse that had slipped in like herself.
"Would it be of any use, now," thought Alice, "to speak to this mouse? Everything is so out-of-the-way down here, that I should think very likely it can talk: at any rate, there's no harm in trying." So she began: "O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse!" (Alice thought this must be the right way of speaking to a mouse: she had never done such a thing before, but she remembered having seen in her brother's Latin Grammar, "A mouse -- of a mouse -- to a mouse -- a mouse -- O