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Showing: 61-65 results of 65

Eugene Lane and his Guests. The world considered Eugene Lane a very fortunate young man; and if youth, health, social reputation, a seat in Parliament, a large income, and finally the promised hand of an acknowledged beauty can make a man happy, the world was right. It is true that Sir Roderick Ayre had been heard to pity the poor chap on the ground that his father had begun life in the workhouse; but everybody knew that Sir Roderick was bound... more...

CHAPTER I The crowd gave way and the car glided smoothly up to the curb at the canopied entrance to the church. The blackness of the wet November night was upon the street. It had rained at intervals all day. The pavements shone wetly like new paint in the glimmer of the street lights, and rude shadows gloomed in every cranny of the great stone building. Betty, alone in the midst of her bridal finery, shrank back from the gaze of the curious... more...

CHAPTER ONE The thin winter day had died early, and at four o'clock it was dark night in the long room in which Mr. Innes gave his concerts of early music. An Elizabethan virginal had come to him to be repaired, and he had worked all the afternoon, and when overtaken by the dusk, he had impatiently sought a candle end, lit it, and placed it so that its light fell upon the jacks.... Only one more remained to be adjusted. He picked it up,... more...

PART FIRST. "The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works of old. "I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was. "When there were no depths, I was brought forth; when there were no fountains abounding with water. "Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth: "While as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields, nor the highest part of the dust of the world.... more...

Chapter I The Workshop With a single drop of ink for a mirror, the Egyptian sorcerer undertakes to reveal to any chance comer far-reaching visions of the past. This is what I undertake to do for you, reader. With this drop of ink at the end of my pen, I will show you the roomy workshop of Mr. Jonathan Burge, carpenter and builder, in the village of Hayslope, as it appeared on the eighteenth of June, in the year of our Lord 1799. The afternoon... more...