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So the grudge, being well watered, grew and flourished, and at last, as I said, the old man made a will one night, in the presence of the gardener and his nephew, who witnessed it, leaving all he possessed—save the title and some outside property, which he did not possess—to his younger son. And, having made this will, he went to his bed, and in the cold night, all alone, he died there, and was found in the morning stiff and stark, with the gay spring sunshine pouring in upon him, while the birds sang without as though to mock death's power, and the flowers broke slowly into life. Flattery goes a long way with most men, but in this instance the subtle poison touches Mr. Rodney even more than it pleases him. He presses the hand that rests upon his arm an eighth of an inch nearer to his heart than it was before, if that be possible. "Did she stop there?" he says: "that was unworthy of her. Breath for once must have failed her, as nothing so trivial as want of words could have influenced Miss Carson.".
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
Sir Nicholas, just moving his glass from one eye to the other, says "Good evening" to him, bending his head courteously, nay, very civilly, though without a touch, or suspicion of friendliness. He does not put out his hand, however, and Paul Rodney, having acknowledged his salutation by a bow colder and infinitely more distant than his own, turns to Mona. "It is very hard on Sir Nicholas," says Mona, who would not call him "Nick" now for the world. "Shall we ask the Carsons to our dance, Nicholas?" asks his mother, at this moment. "Do you?" says Rodney. He is strangely moved; he speaks quietly, but his heart is beating quickly, and Cupid's dart sinks deeper in its wound..
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