My love she's but a lassie, by the author of 'Queenie'.Hurst and Blackett, 1875 |
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Page 13
... Langton , second wife of Miles Langton , the old master of Cherrybank - a pleasant place in one of the south - western shires . Only she occasionally put her long fingers , in a creeping , fawning way , on the arm of the old man beside ...
... Langton , second wife of Miles Langton , the old master of Cherrybank - a pleasant place in one of the south - western shires . Only she occasionally put her long fingers , in a creeping , fawning way , on the arm of the old man beside ...
Page 14
... Langton's face changed , and her voice had an unpleasant , cold incisiveness ; though she smiled most charmingly , after a peculiar surface fashion . 66 hear Dreaming , as usual . Do you not MY LOVE , SHE'S BUT A LASSIE ,
... Langton's face changed , and her voice had an unpleasant , cold incisiveness ; though she smiled most charmingly , after a peculiar surface fashion . 66 hear Dreaming , as usual . Do you not MY LOVE , SHE'S BUT A LASSIE ,
Page 18
... Langton addressed , only gave a great start , and stared vacantly at the door , with uplifted brush ; then , satisfying herself that there was no immediate danger , placidly resumed her occupation . " La ! no , Miss Mabel ; she's too ...
... Langton addressed , only gave a great start , and stared vacantly at the door , with uplifted brush ; then , satisfying herself that there was no immediate danger , placidly resumed her occupation . " La ! no , Miss Mabel ; she's too ...
Page 20
... her principal care - taker - ever since , without learning Miss Langton's proud little ways , perceived her curiosity was resented , so adroitly continued : 1 66 To think that , all these years , 20 MY LOVE , SHE'S BUT A LASSIE .
... her principal care - taker - ever since , without learning Miss Langton's proud little ways , perceived her curiosity was resented , so adroitly continued : 1 66 To think that , all these years , 20 MY LOVE , SHE'S BUT A LASSIE .
Page 21
... Langton's absences from home , for years past , had made him indeed little more than a stranger . To the mind of Agnes she herself and the middle - aged butler were Mabel's humble friends ; and her only ones , as for a long time they ...
... Langton's absences from home , for years past , had made him indeed little more than a stranger . To the mind of Agnes she herself and the middle - aged butler were Mabel's humble friends ; and her only ones , as for a long time they ...
Other editions - View all
My Love She's But a Lassie, by the Author of 'Queenie' Maria Henrietta De La Cherois-Crommelin No preview available - 2016 |
My Love She's But a Lassie, by the Author of 'Queenie' Maria Henrietta De La Cherois-Crommelin No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
afternoon Agnes amused answered arbutus beautiful better Brimham Rocks Captain Huntley Cherrybank child cold Colonel Cust croquet Cust's dark daugh daughter dear despite doubt drysalter eyes face fancy father feel felt fond French maid fresh frightened gave gaze gentleman girl glad glance gleam Goldenlocks grass hair hand handsome happy Harrogate hate head heart JOSHUA SYLVESTER Juliana knew LASSIE late laugh Lester light lips looked Mabel Madame Madame's maid marriage Maud mind Miss Higgins Miss Langton Miss Mawkesworth morning never night once perhaps pity pleasant poor old portmanteau quartz round seemed silent smil smile softly soul sounds of music startled step-mother strange stray sweet tain Huntley talk tell thing thought tion Titian tone trying turned ugly utter voice walk Walter Huntley warm Wat Huntley Wat's watched whispered wild window wish woman young lady
Popular passages
Page 111 - Tell me, where is fancy * bred, Or in the heart, or in the head ? How begot, how nourished ? Reply, reply. It is engender'd in the eyes, With gazing fed ; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies : Let us all ring fancy's knell ; I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell.
Page 199 - No spirit feels waste, Not a muscle is stopped in its playing nor sinew unbraced. Oh, the wild joys of living! the leaping from rock up to rock, The strong rending of boughs from the fir-tree, the cool silver shock Of the plunge in a pool's living water, the hunt of the bear, And the sultriness showing the lion is couched in his lair.
Page 251 - A sweet attractive kind of grace ; A full assurance given by looks ; Continual comfort in a face, The lineaments of Gospel books — I trow that count'nance cannot lye, Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.
Page 217 - bide my time," But my heart will leap at a scene like this And I half renew my prime. Play on ! Play on ! I am with you there, In the midst of your merry ring ; I can feel the thrill of the daring jump, And the rush of the breathless swing.
Page 202 - Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry. But my love's heart grown cauld to me. When we came in by Glasgow town. We were a comely sight to see; My love was clad in the black velvet, And I mysel in cramasie.
Page 137 - I WEIGH not fortune's frown or smile; I joy not much in earthly joys; I seek not state, I seek not style; I am not fond of fancy's toys. I rest so pleased with what I have, I wish no more, no more I crave.
Page 217 - bide my time: " But my heart will leap at a scene like this, And I half renew my prime. Play on, play on ; I am with you there, In the midst of your merry ring: I can feel the thrill of the daring jump, And the rush of the breathless swing. I hide with you in the fragrant hay, And I whoop the smothered call, And my feet slip up on the seedy floor, And I care not for the fall.
Page 153 - That a girl with eager eyes and yellow hair Waits me there In the turret whence the charioteers caught soul For the goal, When the king looked, where she looks now, breathless, dumb Till I come. But he looked upon the city, every side, Far and wide, All the mountains topped with temples, all the glades...
Page 9 - I gallop'd on my palfrey white as milk, My robe was of the .sea-green woof, my serk was of the silk; My hair was golden yellow, and it floated to my shoe, My eyes were like two harebells bathed in little drops of dew; My palfrey, never stopping, made a music sweetly blent With the leaves of autumn dropping all around me as I went; And I heard the bells, grown fainter, far behind me peal and play, Fainter, fainter, fainter, fainter, till they...