"'Ough, Martin; how do you like that?' I feel very sure you will be pleased with her when you and she get upon intimate terms. You could know so little of her from that one evening in the Cavendish Road. The next morning she started for the Riviera. She was proceeding thither via Toulouse, Carcassonne, Narbonne and the coast. To Martin鈥檚 astonishment F茅lise was accompanying her, on a visit for ten days or a fortnight to the South. It appeared that the matter had been arranged late the previous evening. Lucilla had made the proposal, swept away difficulty after difficulty with her air of a smiling, but irresistible providence and left Bigourdin and F茅lise not a leg save sheer churlishness to stand on. Clothes? She had ten times the amount she needed. The perils of the lonely and tedious return train journey? Never could F茅lise accomplish it. Bigourdin turned up an Indicateur des Chemins de Fer. There were changes, there were waits. Communications were arranged, with diabolical cunning, not to correspond. Perhaps it was to confound the Germans in case of invasion. As far as he could make out it would take seventy-four hours, forty-three minutes to get from Monte Carlo to Brant?me. It was far simpler to go from Paris to Moscow, which as every one knew was the end of the world. F茅lise would starve. F茅lise would perish of cold. F茅lise would get the wrong train and find herself at Copenhagen or Amsterdam or Naples, where she wouldn鈥檛 be able to speak the language. Lucilla laughed. There was such a thing as L鈥橝gence Cook which moulded the Indicateur des Chemins de Fer to its will. She would engage a man from Cook鈥檚 before whose brass-buttoned coat and a gold-lettered cap band the Indicateur would fall to pieces, to transfer F茅lise personally, by easy stages, from house to house. F茅lise had pleaded her uncle鈥檚 need. Lucilla, in the most charming way imaginable, had deprecated as impossible any such colossal selfishness on the part of Monsieur Bigourdin. Overawed by the Olympian he had peremptorily ordered F茅lise to retire and pack her trunk. Then, obeying the dictates of his sound sense he had asked Lucilla what object she had in her magnificent invitation. His little girl, said he, would acquire a taste for celestial things which never afterwards would she be in a position to gratify. To which, Lucilla: And then there was F茅lise, who in her capacity of task-mistress called him peremptorily 鈥淢artin鈥? but out of official hours nearly always prefixed the 鈥淢onsieur.鈥?She created an atmosphere of grace around the plates and dishes, her encouraging word sang for long afterwards in his ears. With a tact only to be found in democratic France she combined the authority of the superior with the intellectual inferior鈥檚 respect. Apparently she concerned herself little about his change of profession. Her father, the all-wise and all-perfect, had ordained it; her uncle, wise and perfect, had acquiesced; Martin, peculiarly wise and almost perfect, had accepted it with enthusiasm. Who was she to question the doings of inscrutable men? CHAPTER XXIX. DR. FOX IN PURSUIT. This was all very fine, but what was Ernest to do? How could he get the school shopkeepers into trouble by owning that they let some of the boys go on tick with them? There was Mrs. Cross, a good old soul, who used to sell hot rolls and butter for breakfast, or eggs and toast, or it might be the quarter of a fowl with bread sauce and mashed potatoes for which she would charge 6d. If she made a farthing out of the sixpence it was as much as she did. When the boys would come trooping into her shop after 鈥渢he hounds鈥?how often had not Ernest heard her say to her servant girls, 鈥淣ow then, you wanches, git some cheers.鈥?All the boys were fond of her, and was he, Ernest, to tell tales about her? It was horrible. aV欧美网,av 日本,av网站的免费观看,好看的日本av,av在线观看网站免费 Stanton was disposed to approve of Johnson's first instruction and to have Sherman at once relieved, but the man who had just come from Appomattox was too strong with the people to make it easy to disregard his judgment on a matter which was in part at least military. The President was still new to his office and he was still prepared to accept counsel. The matter was, therefore, arranged as Grant desired. Grant took the instructions and had his personal word with Sherman, but this word was so quietly given that none of the men in Sherman's army, possibly no one but Sherman himself, knew of Grant's visit. Grant took pains so to arrange the last stage of his journey that he came into the camp at Goldsborough well after dark, and, after an hour's interview with Sherman, he made his way at once northward outside of our lines and of our knowledge. It is treating me rather like a criminal; or, at any rate, like a person whose word cannot be believed. 鈥淲ho has treated you damnably here?鈥?asked Fortinbras. Ernest had several Johnian friends, and came thus to hear about the Simeonites and to see some of them, who were pointed out to him as they passed through the courts. They had a repellent attraction for him; he disliked them, but he could not bring himself to leave them alone. On one occasion he had gone so far as to parody one of the tracts they had sent round in the night, and to get a copy dropped into each of the leading Simeonites鈥?boxes. The subject he had taken was 鈥淧ersonal Cleanliness.鈥?Cleanliness, he said, was next to godliness; he wished to know on which side it was to stand, and concluded by exhorting Simeonites to a freer use of the tub. I cannot commend my hero鈥檚 humour in this matter; his tract was not brilliant, but I mention the fact as showing that at this time he was something of a Saul and took pleasure in persecuting the elect, not, as I have said, that he had any hankering after scepticism, but because, like the farmers in his father鈥檚 village, though he would not stand seeing the Christian religion made light of, he was not going to see it taken seriously. Ernest鈥檚 friends thought his dislike for Simeonites was due to his being the son of a clergyman who, it was known, bullied him; it is more likely, however, that it rose from an unconscious sympathy with them, which, as in St. Paul鈥檚 case, in the end drew him into the ranks of those whom be had most despised and hated. The weather turned exceedingly cold and wet, and as camping was no longer desirable, the party packed up their things and left. They had not gone many miles on their return trip when the leading canoe scraped a rock. Water poured in so quickly that the crew, consisting of the two officers, with Bearie and Joe, had to swim ashore towing the wreck behind them. Joe was sent to the woods to gather spruce gum and birch bark, while the other three tried to kindle a fire. After much difficulty they succeeded in securing light rotten wood from the inside of a hollow tree, sufficiently dry to retain sparks from a flint, and in a short time three half-frozen men stood steaming before a huge fire. After two hours of fruitless search, the Frenchman returned unable to procure any birch bark, but with a quantity of gum, which he scraped into a small iron kettle, together with a small quantity of fat, and suspended it over the fire.