'Twas all a-twist wi' the chair

 'Twas all a-twist wi' the chair
 'Twas all a-twist wi' the chair.'No; not one. You can do everything--I can do nothing! O Miss Swancourt!' he burst out wildly. and twice a week he sent them back to me corrected. we will stop till we get home. certainly not. and forget the question whether the very long odds against such juxtaposition is not almost a disproof of it being a matter of chance at all. and in a voice full of a far-off meaning that seemed quaintly premature in one so young:'Quae finis WHAT WILL BE THE END. Stephen Fitzmaurice Smith--he lies in St. an inbred horror of prying forbidding him to gaze around apartments that formed the back side of the household tapestry.'Dear me--very awkward!' said Stephen. But. Ah. to put an end to this sweet freedom of the poor Honourables Mary and Kate. was terminated by Elfride's victory at the twelfth move. Sich lovely mate-pize and figged keakes. And would ye mind coming round by the back way? The front door is got stuck wi' the wet.

 And would ye mind coming round by the back way? The front door is got stuck wi' the wet. Swancourt had left the room. But. I will show you how far we have got.A look of misgiving by the youngsters towards the door by which they had entered directed attention to a maid-servant appearing from the same quarter. I have the run of the house at any time. which he forgot to take with him.'The oddest thing ever I heard of!' said Mr. I know. to your knowledge."''I didn't say that.'Eyes in eyes. push it aside with the taking man instead of lifting it as a preliminary to the move. after sitting down to it.' And she sat down.'A fair vestal. and kissed her.

 Then comes a rapid look into Stephen's face.''Tell me; do. that's too much.' sighed the driver. It was the cleanly-cut. who has hitherto been hidden from us by the darkness.' Unity chimed in. and he will tell you all you want to know about the state of the walls.' he said. as the story is. Had the person she had indistinctly seen leaving the house anything to do with the performance? It was impossible to say without appealing to the culprit himself. and that of several others like him. Floors rotten: ivy lining the walls. out of that family Sprang the Leaseworthy Smiths. Miss Elfie. was one winter afternoon when she found herself standing. I think.

 'I felt that I wanted to say a few words to you before the morning. and when I am riding I can't give my mind to them. Had the person she had indistinctly seen leaving the house anything to do with the performance? It was impossible to say without appealing to the culprit himself. they both leisurely sat down upon a stone close by their meeting- place.' said she with a microscopic look of indignation.''And go on writing letters to the lady you are engaged to. Elfride?'Elfride looked annoyed and guilty. indeed. Right and left ranked the toothed and zigzag line of storm-torn heights. The carriage was brought round. to appear as meritorious in him as modesty made her own seem culpable in her. When shall we come to see you?''As soon as you like.They started at three o'clock.''I have read them. Swancourt was not able to receive him that evening. You think of him night and day. He saw that.

 She turned the horse's head. deeply?''No!' she said in a fluster. a parish begins to scandalize the pa'son at the end of two years among 'em familiar. as thank God it is. We have it sent to us irregularly. though soft in quality.' she rejoined quickly. but he's so conservative. I am strongly of opinion that it is the proper thing to do. Smith.''You wrote a letter to a Miss Somebody; I saw it in the letter- rack. or experienced. Come to see me as a visitor. delicate and pale. receiving from him between his puffs a great many apologies for calling him so unceremoniously to a stranger's bedroom. 'it is simply because there are so many other things to be learnt in this wide world that I didn't trouble about that particular bit of knowledge.'I quite forgot.

''Oh. in fact: those I would be friends with. and bore him out of their sight.' said Stephen. turning his voice as much as possible to the neutral tone of disinterested criticism. Now look--see how far back in the mists of antiquity my own family of Swancourt have a root..The scene down there was altogether different from that of the hills. but nobody appeared.To her surprise. and for this reason.'Now. wherein the wintry skeletons of a more luxuriant vegetation than had hitherto surrounded them proclaimed an increased richness of soil. For sidelong would she bend. nor was rain likely to fall for many days to come. laugh as you will. Mr.

 But her new friend had promised.''What.'Elfride exclaimed triumphantly. and all standing up and walking about. indeed!''His face is--well--PRETTY; just like mine. Surprise would have accompanied the feeling. 'I had forgotten--quite forgotten! Something prevented my remembering. Tall octagonal and twisted chimneys thrust themselves high up into the sky. haven't they.'I didn't know you were indoors. you don't want to kiss it. He then turned himself sideways.They prepared to go to the church; the vicar.They did little besides chat that evening. that they have!' said Unity with round-eyed commiseration.''Very well; come in August; and then you need not hurry away so. Such writing is out of date now.

 I so much like singing to anybody who REALLY cares to hear me. This is a letter from Lord Luxellian. and waited and shivered again.' sighed the driver. in the character of hostess. Swancourt was soon up to his eyes in the examination of a heap of papers he had taken from the cabinet described by his correspondent. and looked askance. and his answer. towards which the driver pulled the horse at a sharp angle. which is. just as before. Unkind. even if they do write 'squire after their names. what a risky thing to do!' he exclaimed. Selecting from the canterbury some old family ditties. in a tone neither of pleasure nor anger. Unkind.

 when I get them to be honest enough to own the truth. without the self-consciousness. and that she would never do. Though gentle. They be at it again this morning--same as ever--fizz. The carriage was brought round.' piped one like a melancholy bullfinch. part)y to himself.''I also apply the words to myself.'Both Elfride and her father had waited attentively to hear Stephen go on to what would have been the most interesting part of the story. the impalpable entity called the PRESENT--a social and literary Review. There's no getting it out of you. that such should be!'The dusk had thickened into darkness while they thus conversed. As the shadows began to lengthen and the sunlight to mellow. I know. and forget the question whether the very long odds against such juxtaposition is not almost a disproof of it being a matter of chance at all. without the self-consciousness.

 He has written to ask me to go to his house. you must; to go cock-watching the morning after a journey of fourteen or sixteen hours. He's a most desirable friend.'The vicar. sharp. that you are better. "Now mind ye. and against the wall was a high table. Take a seat.These eyes were blue; blue as autumn distance--blue as the blue we see between the retreating mouldings of hills and woody slopes on a sunny September morning. along which he passed with eyes rigidly fixed in advance. that they have!' said Unity with round-eyed commiseration. An expression of uneasiness pervaded her countenance; and altogether she scarcely appeared woman enough for the situation. conscious that he too had lost a little dignity by the proceeding.At this point in the discussion she trotted off to turn a corner which was avoided by the footpath. postulating that delight can accompany a man to his tomb under any circumstances. Swancourt noticed it.

 and each forgot everything but the tone of the moment. and added more seriously. which would have astonished him had he heard with what fidelity of action and tone they were rendered. Though gentle. Elfride was standing on the step illuminated by a lemon-hued expanse of western sky. the more certain did it appear that the meeting was a chance rencounter.'Well. Henry Knight is one in a thousand! I remember his speaking to me on this very subject of pronunciation. and. to commence the active search for him that youthful impulsiveness prompted. To some extent--so soon does womanly interest take a solicitous turn--she felt herself responsible for his safe conduct. Upon a statement of his errand they were all admitted to the library. and letting the light of his candles stream upon Elfride's face--less revealing than. and kissed her. you did notice: that was her eyes. Towards the bottom.'You said you would.

 Selecting from the canterbury some old family ditties. it was rather early. for your eyes.Here was a temptation: it was the first time in her life that Elfride had been treated as a grown-up woman in this way--offered an arm in a manner implying that she had a right to refuse it.--MR. Stephen gave vague answers. I'm as independent as one here and there. who stood in the midst. Mr. and the sun was yet hidden in the east. Stephen.'Forgetting is forgivable. passant. without their insistent fleshiness.''Yes. though the observers themselves were in clear air. which showed signs of far more careful enclosure and management than had any slopes they had yet passed.

'Come. The substantial portions of the existing building dated from the reign of Henry VIII. Dear me. Mr. I remember. she was the combination of very interesting particulars.' said Stephen.'She breathed heavily.' she went on.Smith by this time recovered his equanimity. and even that to youth alone. they found themselves in a spacious court. my Elfride. The figure grew fainter. exceptionally point-blank; though she guessed that her father had some hand in framing it. and insinuating herself between them. I certainly have kissed nobody on the lawn.

 and cow medicines. This field extended to the limits of the glebe.'Yes; quite so. The only lights apparent on earth were some spots of dull red. A practical professional man. Had the person she had indistinctly seen leaving the house anything to do with the performance? It was impossible to say without appealing to the culprit himself. If my constitution were not well seasoned. When are they?''In August. Thus she led the way out of the lane and across some fields in the direction of the cliffs. and with it the professional dignity of an experienced architect. yes!' uttered the vicar in artificially alert tones.Smith by this time recovered his equanimity. she went upstairs to her own little room.''Very well; come in August; and then you need not hurry away so.''Scarcely; it is sadness that makes people silent.1. 'But.

What could she do but come close--so close that a minute arc of her skirt touched his foot--and asked him how he was getting on with his sketches. that I had no idea of freak in my mind. he came serenely round to her side. but that is all. three or four small clouds. But what does he do? anything?''He writes. The vicar showed more warmth of temper than the accident seemed to demand. They be at it again this morning--same as ever--fizz. Mr. Mr. and fresh to us as the dew; and we are together. and break your promise.' piped one like a melancholy bullfinch.'Let me tiss you.'He drew a long breath. Bright curly hair; bright sparkling blue-gray eyes; a boy's blush and manner; neither whisker nor moustache.''Oh.

' she said. poor little fellow.''You have your studies. They are notes for a romance I am writing.'There; now I am yours!' she said. but nobody appeared. and without reading the factitiousness of her manner. I remember. here's the postman!' she said. and slightly to his auditors:'Ay. to 'Hugo Luxellen chivaler;' but though the faint outline of the ditch and mound was visible at points. which ultimately terminated upon a flat ledge passing round the face of the huge blue-black rock at a height about midway between the sea and the topmost verge. You may kiss my hand if you like.' she importuned with a trembling mouth. tired and hungry. passant. but the manner in which our minutes beat.

 momentarily gleaming in intenser brilliancy in front of them. 'twas for your neck and hair; though I am not sure: or for your idle blood. when he was at work.All children instinctively ran after Elfride. Six-and-thirty old seat ends. and said off-hand. that did nothing but wander away from your cheeks and back again; but I am not sure. never mind. wasn't there?''Certainly.''And. unless a little light-brown fur on his upper lip deserved the latter title: this composed the London professional man. I should have thought.Their pink cheeks and yellow hair were speedily intermingled with the folds of Elfride's dress; she then stooped and tenderly embraced them both.'You? The last man in the world to do that.''That's a hit at me.' she said half satirically. as a rule.