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    《下载神州行彩票官网 | 【jMQMHP】》深度解析:KQjeep自由光y2s

    时间:<2020-06-07 03:58:57 作者:8Tmg6oXp 浏览量:9777

    Mrs. Arling looked anxiously at her son. "Does Doctor Remy give you any special news?" she asked."I see," said Bergan, smiling. "The consummate little rogue!"

    "It is a long story; but I will make it as brief as I can. You know that my cousin Varley is now in prison, under sentence of death for the murder of which I came so near to being convicted myself,and should have been, but for you. Well, he sent for me a few days ago, to ask my pardon, and to beg me to take charge of a certain child of his. It seems that, two or three years ago, he was inveigled into a marriage with a beautiful but unprincipled girl, belonging to one of the worst families in this vicinity; her parents keep a low tavern, generally known, I believe, as the 'Rat-Hole,' about a mile out of town, on the Berganton road. Do you know it?"

    And, as he thus questioned, the narrow walls, the low roof, and the insignificant adornments of the little church seemed slowly to widen and lift themselves to the grand proportions of a vast, pillared temple; and the small chancel windowdoing so little, nor doing that little well, to keep alive the fair memory of "Elizabeth, wife of Sir Harry"became a great glory of pictured saints and angels, through whose diaphanous bodies the rainbow-light fell softly among a crowd of kneeling worshippers;unto whom the sculptured mural tablets, the jewel-tinted glass, the stately walls, the soaring arch, told over and over again the lovely story, and held up to view the noble example, of a race whose labor and delight it had been to build strong and beautiful the walls of Zion; and which, in so doing, had raised up to itself the most enduring, as well as the most precious of earthly monuments. How much better this than the crumbling splendors of Bergan Hall, and the fading glory of an almost extinct name!"Take my advice," said Mr. Bergan, "and wait a little longer. I have had, all along, an expectationor, at least, a hopethat my brother's will would give some clue to all these mysteries. The time fixed for the reading is now at hand. Go with me, and be present thereat, as you have a right to be. Then, if we get any clue, I will do my utmost to help you follow it out; if we do not, I shall be equally at your service to seek for one elsewhere."Men of Godfrey Bergan's thoughtful and deliberate character, when they adopt a mistaken opinion, are wont to wedge it in so firmly among things undeniably true and just, that to dislodge it is like tearing up an oak which has rooted itself in a rock cleft. "I wish I were certain that he is not," he answered, with a slow, grave shake of the head.

    A pleasant family picture was before him. Bergan Arling, on one side of the crimson-covered centre-table, looked up, smiling, from the book out of which he had been reading aloud. Two of his sisters sat near him, busy with crotchet needles and bright worsteds. Still another was drawing at a side-table; and over her, giving her the benefit of his criticism, leaned her brother Hubert, scarce two years younger than Bergan, and so strikingly like him, that one was often taken for the other, outside the family circle. At one side of the fire-place sat the master of the house, a tall, noble-looking man, with eye undimmed and hair unfrosted by the snows of over sixty years. Opposite him was the home's true light and centre, the house-mother. She reclined in a large, low easy chair, the paleness on her face half concealed by the glow of the blazing fire, and her eyes shining with that tender joy and peace which convalescents sometimes bring back from the edge of the grave,a reflection, perhaps, from the paradise that was already opening before the gaze of the half-freed spirit.

    This threat effectually silenced Doctor Remy. It was essential that the matter should not be taken out of his hands, till he had satisfied himself that it could in nowise be turned to his account. "If it comes to the worst," said he to himself, "it is something to have the document in my own handwriting. That gives me a better chance to furnish a substitute, at need.""Well!" said Dr. Remy, by way of reminding him that he was still waiting.

    Coming, as has been said, no one knew from whence, and having no apparent voucher, these rumors nevertheless penetrated to counting-rooms and boudoirs, to offices and to bar-rooms, to Major Bergan on his vast estate, and Dick Causton in his narrow cabin, to Godfrey Bergan at his desk, and Carice beside her mother,everywhere, save to the two persons most directly interested; namely, Bergan Arling on his rapid way homeward, and Astra Lyte in her studio."Not very well," good-naturedly replied the young man, taking pity on his companion's inveterate habit of translation, and the delight which it plainly afforded him.

    "Wer dem Spide zusicht, kann's am besten, my dear Doctor Remy," he muttered; "or, in other words, the looker-on sees more of the game than the player. What would you give to know what I know, I wonder! Just wait till the right time comes; then you'll find out that 'He is worst cheated, who cheats himself.'""It is people who live by sight that mistake sounds, Doctor Remy," returned Rue, composedly; "a woman, who has lived by hearing for over sixty years, does not. Let me give you a proof of it. These gentlemen listen to your voice, as I do, and they do not hear anything unusual in it,nothing more than the seriousness, or the coldness, or the scorn, that fits the words; but I hear in it anxiety and perplexity and suspense and fear. Since Mr. Arling has been missing, I have suspected that you could tell us what had become of him, if you would. But while you have been talking about him here, my ears have been watching your voice, your steps, your very breath; and I know now that you do not know where he is any more than we do. You are puzzled because he does not come; you are continually expectingI will not say, dreadingto see him, or hear of him. Is it not so?"

    Nevertheless, she worked with indefatigable industry, as well as undeniable talent. If her pictures evinced some lack of technical skill, they were endued with a force and feeling which more than atoned for its absence; since the one would address itself chiefly to connoisseurs, while the other went straight to the universal heart. They covered a wide range of subjects, yet a profound observer would have traced a certain connection and sequence in them all. The earlier and cruder efforts of her pencil were pleasant outdoor scenes,children wading in a sunshine brook, farm youths and maidens tossing about new-mown hay, and village girls dancing under wide-spreading boughs,scenes so perfect in their idealization as to seem familiar to every eye, yet never without that inestimable something added or eliminated, which constitutes the difference between the picturesque and the commonplace. After these came works not only marked by greater skill of design and felicity of color, but informed with a deeper feeling;yet so delicately indicated that none but the finest instinct would have perceived how softly Love illumined the landscape, or shone in the smile of the youth, or looked up to the maiden from her own downcast eyes reflected in the water. Then came a sudden change,pictures and sketches wherein the artist's pencil must have been driven by some terrible intensity of feeling, to have wrought with such sombre power;such as an illimitable desert, with a man riding fast toward a wan, setting sun, and his long, backward shadow falling upon a woman's outstretched, yearning hands,or the black silhouette of a drifting and dismantled ship, seen against a blood-red moon, setting in a dun and angry sea,or a deep and dismal cavern, with a female figure lying bruised and broken at the bottom of a fissure, and a man, also torn and bleeding, seen at the end of a long vista, searching for what he will not find. These pictures affected the spectator like a nightmare; there was such a fell shadow of immitigable fate in them all, and so notable an absence of anything like hope or faith, that while he acknowledged their power, he shuddered at their spirit."But I must not sit here chatting any longer, for I suspect that Benthat's my head driveris waiting for instructions. Will you come with me, or do you prefer to amuse yourself about home?"

    And yet, how strong a hold, after all, had both master and mansion upon his heart! Some time, surely, when he should have won fame and fortune enough to be above all suspicion of self-seeking, he might come back to visit them, and see what could be done for both.But the young man now coming up the street, through the pleasant play of sunshine and shadow beneath the elms, would neither have asked the question, nor smiled at the answer. He knew the stuccoed building well, as a three years' occupant thereof must needs do; and he had heard and repeated the witticism too many times to leave it the faintest sparkle. It was doubtful, too, whether he gave a thought to the loveliness of the elm-arched vista that stretched before him,partly by reason of his familiarity therewith, partly on account of a preoccupied mind, and still more, perhaps, because his bright, brisk, energetic temperament was not of the sort which is quickest to feel subtile charm, and recognize the delicate outline, of the spirit of beauty. He came on rapidly, with an elastic step and a cheery whistle, and, as he neared the college, he cast a quick glance at one of its upper windows. What he saw there would have been a pretty enough sight to most people,merely a tiny brown bird hopping to and fro on the window-sill, and turning its small head briskly from side to side in its search for infinitesimal crumbs,but it brought a shadow to his broad, frank brow.