often like that—flaring out all of a sudden like a madman. You wouldn’t imagine it, would you, with that quiet way of his? She says she thinks it’s his old wound.”
should not sound too boastful, the old man held up his hand.
"Wid your gold an' lace
Beyond that “I’m kind o’ stuck on you,” it seemed he would never get, and at last, growing desperate, one night I determined to use a little strategy and screw his courage to the sticking point. So when he came, and discoursed a short time on the weather, the brightness of the moon, our sick neighbors and such like, I knew my time was near, and awaited nervously for the never-failing sentence, “I’m kind o’ stuck on you,” when I expected to say, “Oh, Charles, this is so sudden. I only thought you liked me as a friend.” This I felt sure would do the work.
That was the worst of all. After Maude and Gertrude Creswell left Woolgreaves, an unseen but constantly present inmate was added to the household, who sat between husband and wife, and whispered into their ears alternately. His name was Doubt, and to Mr. Creswell he said--"What has become of all those fine resolutions which you made on your brother Tom's death?--resolutions about taking his children under your roof, and never losing sight of them until they left as happy brides? Where are they now? Those resolutions have been broken, have they not? The girls, Tom's daughters--orphan daughters, mind--have been sent away from what you had taught them to look upon as their home--sent away on some trivial excuse of temper--and where are they now? You don't know!--you, the uncle, the self-constituted guardian--positively don't know where they are! You have had the address given you, of course, but you cannot imagine the place, for you have never seen it; you cannot picture to yourself the lady with whom they are said to be staying, for you never saw her, and, until your wife explained who she was, you had scarcely even heard of her. Your wife! Ah! that is a pleasant subject! You've found her all that you expected, have you not? So clever, clear-headed, bright, and, withal, so docile and obedient? Yet she it was who quarrelled with your nieces, and told you that either she or they must leave your house. She it was who saw them depart with delight, and who never bated one jot of her satisfaction when she noticed, as she cannot have failed to notice, your emotion and regret. Look back into the past, man--think of the woman who was your trusted helpmate in the old days of your poverty and struggle!--think of her big heart, her indomitable courage, her loving womanly nature, beaming ever more brightly when the dark shadows gathered round your lives!--think of her, man, compare her with this one, and see the difference!"
Dr. Sunbury heard the call, and came too. He obeyed a look from the doctor, and taking Thorburn by the arm, almost dragged him from the room. Jane came with the brandy, with salts, with the doctor's electrical appliances; but it was too late. Mrs. Thorburn breathed an hour or two longer, and then, without a word, a look, or a sigh, stopped breathing.
"No, I shan't. Look here, Rafella, we haven't anybody dining with us, and Jim hadn't forgotten to call for me. He's probably at the club now, and when he finds I've gone home, he'll stay and play billiards, or something, for a bit. I perjured myself on your account, and I want you to come in and hear why I did it."
There was another door. Open.
“The old man maybe sized me up all right as bein’ a fool, but he missed it on my bein’ a quitter. I had no notion of being fired an’ blistered an’ turned out to grass that early in the game. I wrote her a poem every other day, an’ lied between heats, till the po’ gal was nearly crazy, an’ when I finally got it into her head that if it was a busted blood vessel with the old man, it was a busted heart with me, she cried a little mo’ an’ consented to run off with me an’ take the chances of the village doctor cuppin’ the old man at the right time.
“Gabriel,” said the stranger.
them, and educate them for its own ampler purposes. Socialism, in fact, is the State family. The old family of the private individual must vanish before it, just as the old water works of private enterprise, or the old gas company. They are incompatible with it. Socialism assails the triumphant egotism of the family to-day, just as Christianity did in its earlier and more vital centuries. So far as English Socialism is concerned (and the thing is still more the case in America) I must confess that the assault has displayed a quite extraordinary instinct for taking cover, but that is a question of tactics rather than of essential antagonism.
Satisfied that my diagnosis was correct, I went over, and taking a seat by him, began to slyly get in my net for the fish I knew was there.详情 ➢
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