Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Billy made no reply. "Ay, your honour," answered the fellow with a grin decidedly above a clown's intelligence. From the bottom of his heart he wished that he had never seen the place, never encountered the spirit of its woods-born. He knew his capabilities and for once in his life, he confessed to himself, he had over-estimated them. He wanted to give this boy now standing so fearlessly before him a whipping such as he would remember to his dying day, but to save his life he couldn't enter into the task with his old-time zest—not with those clear eyes looking so contemptuously into his very soul..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Great was the astonishment throughout the neighborhood when it became known that Dr. Etwald, the clever physician of Deanminster, had been arrested on a double charge of murder and theft of a dead body. Those who did not like him--and they were the majority--rejoiced openly that the assassin of Maurice Alymer had been found in Etwald's person; but there were some that regretted that so brilliant a man should be consigned to a felon's cell, and--possibly in the hereafter--to a felon's doom. But whatever opinions, for or against the prisoner, were held by the good people of Deanminster and the surrounding neighborhood, there was no doubt of one thing: The trial of Max Etwald at the assizes would be the great sensation of the year.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
"Dr. Etwald! Do you think he has anything to do with it?" queried Jen, perplexed and a trifled startled.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Where did she get those wonderful eyes? From her mother, who in her day had been a celebrated Irish actress; Kitty O'Hara, famed in such parts as Sir Harry Wildair, the Fair Penitent, and Ophelia. Captain Acton, when lieutenant and stationed at Kingston, had seen Mrs Kitty O'Hara as "Ophelia" at the Dublin Theatre, and before she had been on the stage five minutes he lost his heart to her. The beautiful and accomplished actress was living with her mother, a noble-looking old gentlewoman who claimed to possess the blood of Irish kings. Acton made love and offered marriage, and was accepted. He had little more than his pay to live upon; nevertheless he refused to allow his wife to return to the stage. He was a sailor, and must by reason of his vocation be often long absent from home, and he declined to subject his beautiful young wife to the temptations of the stage. He might also have been influenced by the case of Sheridan after his marriage with Miss Linley, and sometimes quoted Dr Samuel Johnson's comment on Sheridan's decision: "He resolved wisely and nobly to be sure. He is a brave man. Would not a gentleman be disgraced by having his wife singing publicly for hire? No, sir, there can be no doubt here." This young lady was Lucy, the only child of Captain Acton, one of the most charming, indeed one of the most beautiful girls of her time. The scene of garden and flower-beds quaintly shaped, and the backing of the noble, mellow, gleaming building with its pediment and symbolic carvings, was enchantingly in keeping with the figure and appearance of the girl, who by the magic of her looks and attire instantly transformed it into a picture charged with the colours of youth and health and a sweet and delicate spirit of life. Her apparel was prettily of the time: a straw hat, the brim projecting a little over the forehead and seated somewhat on one side, a plain light blue gown and long yellow silk gloves. The gown was without waist and bound under the bosom by a girdle. Her hair this day was dressed in tresses which hung around the face—not curls, but tender shadings of hair, as though the effect had been contrived by the fingers of the wind; but some curls reposed on her neck. Her eyes were unusually large, of a dark brown and full of liquid light. The eyelids were somewhat heavy, and looked the heavier because of their rich furniture of eyelash. The eyelashes indeed suggested at first sight that she doctored her eyes, as do actresses[Pg 20] and others; but a brief inspection satisfied the beholder that all was Nature transparent, artless, and lovely. A conspicuous charm in Lucy Acton was her colour: her cheeks always wore a natural bloom or glow; this, as in the case of her eyes, might have been suspected as the effect of art, but she blushed so readily, even sometimes on any effort of speech, the damask of her blood so wrought in her cheek on any impulse of mood or humour, that it was quickly seen the mantling glow was a charm of Nature's own gift. No girl could have been more natural, and few more beautiful than Lucy Acton. Had she lived half a century earlier she would have been one of the toasts of the nation. "To Walter Lawrence, Esquire., R.N., in command of Captain Acton's barque-rigged vessel named the Minorca. "Billy Boy," he said, with a smile, "I had to come, at last. Every time you have offered to guide me to this old spot we knew and loved and enjoyed together I have refused because—because I thought I couldn't stand it: because I am unable to see what my heart and senses tell me is here. But tonight I groped my way down, knowing that you would find me and help me home.".
298 people found this
review helpful