Hurriedly McCray scrambled into the suit. By the time he was sealed down he was coughing from the bottom of his lungs, deep, tearing rasps that pained him, uncontrollable. Chlorine or fluorine, one of them was in the air he had been breathing. He could not guess where it had come from; but it was ripping his lungs out.
not exactly regard as a misfortune, and in the interests of the reader it is rather an advantage; for, in accordance with the objects of the ‘General History of the Sciences,’ this History of Botany is not intended for professional persons only, but for a wider circle of readers, and to these perhaps even the details presented in it may here and there seem wearisome.
Mr. John lifts oop his paper, and I seen him frowning like to brake his face behind it—hes that ankshiss to keep back a teer. Auld Mr. Wolley blew his nose like it was a throompet. Mr. James swollers his coffee red hot, and Mrs. Wolley tuk to crying to hersilf. Miss Claire guv a kiss to little Willy and wan to her father. Then she et her brikfust, beeming on everybody.
At that moment a droschky appeared at the extremity of the long street which the police kept clear for the imperial cortége. The horse dashed furiously along, evidently running away, while the driver held on desperately to the reins. On the narrow seat were two moujiks holding on to each other, apparently drunk and unconscious of their danger. They kissed each other and rubbed their beards together, as their habit is in their convivial moods; but I suspected that they were not drunk, and perhaps not even moujiks. One of them appeared to be urging the already maddened horse still more. "Fly, my dushinka!" ("little darling") he cried, trying to clutch the reins from the frightened driver. "Fly like wind and lightning to meet our good father Constantine!"
“Indeed you misjudge me, my friend,” replied Ephialtes assuming an aggrieved air. “I had not thought of him in the role of lover. But while she is under the protection of Themistocles her mind must constantly be impressed by his opinions, and you know, yourself, that the statesman does not love you nor did he your father before you. And why, pray tell me, does Themistocles hate you? Ah, you hesitate because of personal modesty, but I will tell you why. It is because you are likely to become his bitter rival. He sees in you not only qualities which he himself possesses as a leader, but likewise some that you have inherited from your brave father. He fears to lose public favor, and you, would you hesitate to take for yourself that which he might lose?”
It was half-past five when we arrived at Yardly Chase, and followed the dignified butler to the old panelled hall with its fire of blazing logs. A pretty picture met our eyes: Lady Yardly and her two children, the mother’s proud dark head bent down over the two fair ones. Lord Yardly stood near, smiling down on them.
him through the town. Lin-coln did not seem to think of fear, and no one raised a hand a-gainst him or spoke an un-kind word.
Here we met a number of French officers, who brought news of the Battle of Falkirk, wherein Prince Charles had beaten the English cavalry and infantry off the field; and though, at the same time, we knew he had retreated from England, it did not serve to dash bur spirits, and we supped merrily together, drinking toast after toast to the success of the Cause.
Both Lord and Lady Hetherington were in the dining-room when Joyce entered, the former with his brown velveteen suit splashed and clay-stained, and his thick boots rich with the spoil of many a furrow (he was bitten with a farming and agricultural mania just then), and the latter calm and collected as Walter ever remembered her. She received the visitor with perfect politeness, expressed in a few well-chosen sentences her pleasure at seeing him again and the satisfaction with which she had learned of his improved position; then, after scanning him with rather a searching glance, she turned to the footman, and asked where was Lady Caroline, and whether she knew luncheon was ready. Joyce replied for the man. Lady Caroline had heard the announcement of luncheon, but had asked him to come in by himself, saying she would follow directly. Her ladyship had gone up to her room, the footman added; he did not think her ladyship was very well. The footman was new to Westhope, or he would have known that the domestics of that establishment were never allowed to think, or at least were expected to keep their thoughts to themselves.