When Christina heard what had happened she said she could condone all except that Theobald should have been subjected to such insolence from one of his own servants through the misconduct of his son. Theobald was the bravest man in the whole world, and could easily have collared the wretch and turned him out of the room, but how far more dignified, how far nobler had been his reply! How it would tell in a novel or upon the stage, for though the stage as a whole was immoral, yet there were doubtless some plays which were improving spectacles. She could fancy the whole house hushed with excitement at hearing John鈥檚 menace, and hardly breathing by reason of their interest and expectation of the coming answer. Then the actor 鈥?probably the great and good Mr. Macready 鈥?would say, 鈥淚 shall leave Master Ernest, John, to the reproaches of his own conscience.鈥?Oh, it was sublime! What a roar of applause must follow! Then she should enter herself, and fling her arms about her husband鈥檚 neck, and call him her lion-hearted husband. When the curtain dropped, it would be buzzed about the house that the scene just witnessed had been drawn from real life, and had actually occurred in the household of the Rev. Theobald Pontifex, who had married a Miss Allaby, etc., etc. 鈥淭o me,鈥?smiled Fortinbras, 鈥渟he is like one of the wild flowers from which Alpine honey is made. To other people she is doubtless a well-mannered commonplace young person. You will see her and judge for yourselves.鈥? Miss Pontifex died many a long year before the above passage was written, but she had arrived independently at much the same conclusion. After a time, however, Christina got used to the idea, and then considerations occurred to her which made her throw herself into it with characteristic ardour. If Miss Pontifex had been a railway stock she might have been said to have been buoyant in the Battersby market for some few days; buoyant for long together she could never be, still for a time there really was an upward movement. Christina鈥檚 mind wandered to the organ itself; she seemed to have made it with her own hands; there would be no other in England to compare with it for combined sweetness and power. She already heard the famous Dr. Walmisley of Cambridge mistaking it for a Father Smith. It would come, no doubt, in reality to Battersby church, which wanted an organ, for it must be all nonsense about Alethea鈥檚 wishing to keep it, and Ernest would not have a house of his own for ever so many years, and they could never have it at the Rectory. Oh, no! Battersby church was the only proper place for it. 久久婷婷五月综合色啪,天天玩,天天鲁,天天曰,,开心网五月色婷婷综合-琪琪看片,天天玩,天天鲁,天天曰, "'I want a bit cast, mon, to the ither side o' the water to the steamboat.' 鈥淣o,鈥?said I, 鈥渨e will charge Ellen鈥檚 pound a week to the estate also. You must have a clear L300 for yourself.鈥? 鈥淣ow I come to think of it,鈥?said Martin, 鈥淚 suppose it is. I represent the more or less educated middle-class Englishman, and, so far as I am aware of any influence on my life, everything outside of England that has moved me has been French. As far as I know, Germany has not produced one great work of art or literature during the last forty years.鈥?