Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
The hour is enchanting, the air almost mild; and every one feels half aggrieved when the carriage, entering the lodge-gates, bears them swiftly towards the massive entrance that will lead them into the house and out of the cold. "I can't, because I don't know myself. It is my nature. However depressed I may feel at one instant, the next a passing thought may change my tears into a laugh. Perhaps that is why we are called fickle; yet it has nothing to do with it: it is a mere peculiarity of temperament, and a rather merciful gift, for which we should be grateful, because, though we return again to our troubles, still the moment or two of forgetfulness soothes us and nerves us for the conflict. I speak, of course, of only minor sorrows; such a grief as poor Kitty's admits of no alleviation. It will last for her lifetime." "To Bantry," says Mona, growing white again,—"to-night! Oh, do you want to kill me and yourself?".
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
The sunbeam somehow got into the internal decorations of Nancy and filtered out through her eyes. Their amber depths seemed to have turned into liquid gold.I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
“Jethro barks with his mouth an’ smiles with his tail,” said Betty.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Below is the lake, bathed in moonshine. A gentle wind has arisen, and little wavelets silver-tinged are rolling inward, breaking themselves with tender sobs upon the shore. "'Sister Anne,' you mean?" says Nolly. "Oh, ay! I have seen her, though as a rule she is suppressed. She is quite all she ought to be, and irreproachable in every respect—unapproachable, according to some. She is a very good girl, and never misses a Saint's Day by any chance, never eats meat on Friday, or butter in Lent, and always confesses. But she is not of much account in the household, being averse to 'ye goode olde times.'" "Ah, it is you!" cries she, her face growing glad again. Is scorned abroad, and lives on tricks at home?".
298 people found this
review helpful