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the last supper painting
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"Thank you，Mr Partridge，for answering these questions.Have you，by anychance，an A B C in the house?I want to look up my return train to London." "On the shelf just behind you，"said Mr Partridge. On the shelf in question were an A B C，a Bradshaw，the Stock ExchangeYear Book，Kelly's Directory，a Who's Who and a local directory.Why shouldn't they be?"demanded Bert truculently. Poirot merely shrugged his shoulders.
oil paintings "What are you getting at，mister?Nobody's got anything againstme?Everyone knows who did the ole girl in，that b-of a husband of hers." "But he was not in the street that evening and you were." "Trying to fasten it on me，are you?Well，you won't succeed.What reason "It was six o'clock when you entered the shop?"

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He nodded his head gravely several times. "And so，naturally，you were afraid......" "I didn't think he'd actually done it-not for a minute!But I was afraidit might be brought up-the quarrel and all that he'd said-several peopleknew about it." Again Poirot nodded his head gravely. "Just so.And I may say，mademoiselle，that but for the egoistical vanityof a killer，that is just what would have happened. If Donald Fraser escapes suspicion，it will be thanks to A B C'smaniacal boasting." He was silent for a minute or two，then he said:
oil paintings "Do you know if your sister met this married man，or any other man，lately?" Megan shook her head. "I don't know.I've been away，you see." "But what do you think?" "She mayn't have met that particular man again.

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indeed she was astonishingly like a ginger cat herself).She playednervously with various fichus and frills that were part of her officialcostume. "You'll have a boom，"said Inspector Kelsey encouragingly."You'll see! You won't be able to serve teas fast enough!" "Disgusting，"said Miss Merrionn."Truly disgusting.It makes one despairof human nature." But her eyes brightened nevertheless. "What can you tell me about the dead girl，Miss Merrion?"
oil paintings "Nothing，"said Miss Merrion positively."Absolutely nothing!" "How long had she been working here?" "This was the second summer." "You were satisfied with her?" "She was a good waitress-quick and obliging." "She was pretty，yes?"inquied Poirot. Miss Merrion，in her turn，gave him an "Oh，these foreigners'look. "She was a nice，clean-looking girl，"she said distantly.

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girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
Head of Christ
Hylas and the Nymphs
¡¡¡¡As it is forward and in the galley, so it is in the steerage and aft, on this veritable hell-ship. Men fight and struggle ferociously for one another's lives. The hunters are looking for a shooting scrape at any moment between Smoke and Henderson, whose old quarrel has not healed, while Wolf Larsen says positively that he will kill the survivor of the affair if such affair comes off. He frankly states that the position he takes is based on no
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moral grounds, that all the hunters could kill and eat one another, so far as he is concerned, were it not that he needs them alive for the hunting. If they will only hold their hands until the season is over, he promises them a royal carnival, when all grudges can be settled and the survivors may toss the non-survivors overboard and arrange a story as to how the missing men were lost at sea. I think even the hunters are appalled at his cold-bloodedness. Wicked men though they be, they are certainly very much afraid of him.

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Head of Christ
Hylas and the Nymphs
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speaking his mind too freely, and has collided two or three times with Wolf Larsen over the pronunciation of his name. Johansen he thrashed on the amidships deck the other night, since which time the mate has called him by his proper name. But of course it is out of the question that Johnson should thrash Wolf Larsen. ¡¡¡¡Louis has also given me additional information about Death Larsen, which tallies with the captain's brief description. We may expect to meet Death Larsen on the Japan coast. 'And look out for squalls,' is Louis's prophecy, 'for they hate one another like the
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wolf-whelps they are.' Death Larsen is in command of the only sealing-steamer in the fleet, which carries fourteen boats, where the schooners carry only six. There is wild talk of cannon aboard, and of strange raids and expeditions she may make, ranging from opium-smuggling into the States and arms-smuggling into China, to black-birding and open piracy. Yet I cannot but believe Louis, for I have never yet caught him in a lie, while he has a cyclopedic knowledge of sealing and the men of the sealing-fleets.

Hylas and the Nymphs

Hylas and the Nymphs
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¡¡¡¡THE GHOST HAS ATTAINED the southernmost point of the arc she is describing across the Pacific, and is already beginning to edge away to the west and north toward some lone island, it is rumored, where she will fill her water-casks before proceeding to the season's hunt along the coast of Japan. The hunters have experimented and practiced with their rifles and shotguns till they are satisfied, and the boat-pullers and steerers have made their sprit-sails, bound the oars and rowlocks in leather and sennit so that they will make no noise when creeping on the
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seals, and put their boats in apple-pie order, to use Leach's homely phrase. ¡¡¡¡His arm, by the way, has healed nicely, though the scar will remain all his life. Thomas Mugridge lives in mortal fear of him, and is afraid to venture on deck after dark. There are two or three standing quarrels in the forecastle. Louis tells me that the gossip of the sailors finds its way aft, and that two of the telltales have been badly beaten by their mates. He shakes his head dubiously over the outlook for the man Johnson, who is boat-puller in the same boat with him. Johnson has been guilty

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'Then you don't believe in altruism?' I asked. ¡¡¡¡He received the word as though it had a familiar ring, though he pondered it thoughtfully. 'Let me see; it means something about cooperation, doesn't it?' ¡¡¡¡Well, in a way there has come to be a sort of connection,' I answered, unsurprised by this time at such gaps in his vocabulary,
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which, like his knowledge, was the acquirement of a self-read, self-educated man whom no one had directed in his studies, and who had thought much and talked little or not at all. 'An altruistic act is an act performed for the welfare of others. It is unselfish, as opposed to an act performed for self, which is selfish.' ¡¡¡¡He nodded his head. 'Oh, yes, I remember it now. I ran across it in Spencer.' ¡¡¡¡'Spencer!' I cried. 'Have you read him?'

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'Ah,' he remarked, with a wry pucker of his mouth, 'I see you still believe in such things as right and wrong.' ¡¡¡¡'But don't you- at all?' I demanded. ¡¡¡¡'Not the least bit. Might is right, and that is all there is to it. Weakness is wrong. Which is a very poor way of saying that it is good for oneself to be strong, and evil for oneself to be weak, or, better yet, it is pleasurable to be strong, because of the profits; painful to be weak, because of the penalties. just now the
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possession of this money is a pleasurable thing. It is good for one to possess it. Being able to possess it, I wrong myself and the life that is in me if I give it to you and forego the pleasure of possessing it.' ¡¡¡¡'But you wrong me by withholding it,' I objected. ¡¡¡¡'Not at all. One man cannot wrong another man. He can only wrong himself. As I see it, I do wrong always when I consider the interests of others. Don't you see? How can two particles of the yeast wrong each other by striving to devour each other? It is their inborn heritage to strive to devour, and to strive not to be devoured. When they depart from this they sin.'

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'Because you are stronger,' I managed to blurt out. ¡¡¡¡'But why stronger?' he went on at once with his perpetual queries. 'Because I am a bigger bit of the ferment than you. Don't you see? Don't you see?' ¡¡¡¡'But the hopelessness of it,' I protested. ¡¡¡¡'I agree with you,' he answered. 'Then why move at all, since moving is living? Without moving and being part of the yeast there would be no hopelessness. But- and there it is- we want to live and move, though we have no reason to, because it happens that it is the nature of life to live and move, to want to live and move.
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If it were not for this, life would be dead. It is because of this life that is in you that you dream of your immortality. The life that is in you is alive and wants to go on being alive forever. Bah! An eternity of piggishness!' ¡¡¡¡He abruptly turned on his heel and started forward. He stopped at the break of the poop and called me to him. ¡¡¡¡'By the way, how much was it that Cooky got away with?' he asked. ¡¡¡¡'One hundred and eighty-five dollars, sir,' I answered. ¡¡¡¡He nodded his head. A moment later, as I started down the companion-stairs to lay the table for dinner, I heard him loudly cursing some man amidships.

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agent who handles your money, for a job.' ¡¡¡¡'But that is beside the matter,' I cried. ¡¡¡¡'Not at all.' He was speaking rapidly now, and his eyes were flashing. 'It is piggishness, and it is life. Of what use or sense is an immortality of piggishness? What is the end? What is it all about? You have made no food, yet the food you have eaten or wasted might have saved the lives of a score of wretches who made the food, but did not eat it. What immortal end did you serve? Or did they? Consider yourself and me. What does your boasted immortality amount to when your life runs foul
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of mine? You would like to go back to the land, which is a favorable place for your kind of piggishness. It is a whim of mine to keep you aboard this ship, where my piggishness flourishes. And keep you I will. I may make or break you. You may die today, this week, or next month. I could kill you now, with a blow of my fist, for you are a miserable weakling. But if we are immortal, what is the reason for this? To be piggish as you and I have been all our lives does not seem to be just the thing for immortals to be doing. Again, what's it all about? Why have I kept you here?'

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Gustav Klimt Painting
William Bouguereau
The Birth of Venus
'Johansen,' Wolf Larsen said briskly to the new mate, 'keep all hands on deck now they're here. Get in the topsails and outer jibs. We're in for a sou'easter. Reef the jib and the mainsail, too, while you're about it.' ¡¡¡¡In a moment the decks were in commotion, Johansen bellowing orders and the men pulling or letting go ropes of various sorts- all naturally confusing to a landsman such as myself. But it was the heartlessness of it that especially struck me. The dead man
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was an episode that was past, an incident that was dropped, in a canvas covering with a sack of coal, while the ship sped along and her work went on. Nobody had been affected. The hunters were laughing at a fresh story of Smoke's; the men pulling and hauling, and two of them climbing aloft; Wolf Larsen was studying the clouding sky to windward; and the dead man, buried sordidly, and sinking down, down- ¡¡¡¡Then it was that the cruelty of the sea, its relentlessness and awfulness, rushed upon me. Life had become cheap and tawdry, a beastly and inarticulate thing, a soulless stirring of the

The Birth of Venus

The Birth of Venus
Marc Chagall Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
Van Gogh Painting
¡¡¡¡At this moment, as he opened his mouth to speak, puff after puff struck the schooner and pressed her side under. The wind shrieked a wild song through the rigging. Some of the hunters glanced anxiously aloft. The whole lee rail, where the dead man lay, was buried in the sea, and as the schooner lifted and righted, the water swept across the deck, wetting us above our shoe-tops. A shower of rain drove down upon us, each drop stinging like a hailstone.
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As it passed, Wolf Larsen began to speak, the bareheaded men swaying in unison to the heave and lunge of the deck. ¡¡¡¡'I only remember one part of the service,' he said, 'and that is, "And the body shall be cast into the sea." So cast it in.' ¡¡¡¡He ceased speaking. The men holding the hatch-cover seemed perplexed, puzzled no doubt by the briefness of the ceremony. He burst upon them in a fury. ¡¡¡¡'Lift up that end there! What the - 's the matter with you?' ¡¡¡¡They elevated the end of the hatch-cover with pitiful haste, and, like a dog flung overside, the dead man slid feet first into the sea. The coal at his feet dragged him down. He was gone.

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hand in his, and held it up for inspection. I tried to withdraw it, but his fingers tightened, without visible effort, till I thought mine would be crushed. It is hard to maintain one's dignity under such circumstances. I could not squirm or struggle like a schoolboy. Nor could I attack such a creature, who had but to twist my arm to break it. Nothing remained but to stand still and accept the indignity. I had time to notice that the pockets of the dead man had been
oil painting
emptied on the deck and that his body and his grin had been wrapped from view in canvas, the folds of which the sailor Johansen was sewing together with coarse white twine, shoving the needle through with a leather contrivance fitted on the palm of his hand. ¡¡¡¡Wolf Larsen dropped my hand with a flirt of disdain. ¡¡¡¡'Dead men's hands have kept it soft. Good for little else than dishwashing and scullion-work.'

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His lip curled in a swift sneer. ¡¡¡¡'I have worked, I do work,' I cried impetuously, as though he were my judge and I required vindication, and at the same time very much aware of my arrant idiocy in discussing the subject at all. ¡¡¡¡'For your living?' ¡¡¡¡There was something so imperative and masterful about him that I was quite beside myself- 'rattled,' as Furuseth would have termed it, like a quaking child before a stern schoolmaster. ¡¡¡¡'Who feeds you?' was his next question. ¡¡¡¡'I have an income,' I answered stoutly, and could have bitten my tongue the next instant. 'All of which,
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you will pardon my observing, has nothing whatsoever to do with what I wish to see you about.' ¡¡¡¡But he disregarded my protest. ¡¡¡¡'Who earned it? Eh? I thought so. Your father. You stand on dead men's legs. You've never had any of your own. You couldn't walk alone between two sunrises and hustle the meat for your belly for three meals. Let me see your hand.' ¡¡¡¡His tremendous, dormant strength must have stirred swiftly and accurately, or I must have slept a moment, for before I knew it he had stepped two paces forward, gripped my right

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the soul with a thousand guises, and that sometimes opened, at rare moments, and allowed it to rush up as though it were about to fare forth nakedly into the world on some wonderful adventure- eyes that could brood with the hopeless somberness of leaden skies; that could snap and crackle points of fire like those that sparkle from a whirling sword; that could grow chill as an arctic landscape, and yet again, that could warm and soften and be all adance
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with love-lights, intense and masculine, luring and compelling, which at the same time fascinate and dominate women till they surrender in a gladness of joy and of relief and sacrifice. ¡¡¡¡But to return. I told him that, unhappily for the burial service, I was not a preacher, when he sharply demanded: ¡¡¡¡'What do you do for a living?' ¡¡¡¡I confess I had never had such a question asked me before, nor had I ever canvassed it. I was quite taken aback, and, before I could find myself, had sillily stammered: 'I am a gentleman.'

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Naiade oil painting
Nighthawks Hopper
Nude on the Beach
One Moment in Time
"Upon my word, Fanny, you are in high luck to meet with such attention and indulgence! You ought to be very much obliged to Mrs. Grant for thinking of you, and to your aunt for letting you go, and you ought to look upon it as something extraordinary; for I hope you are aware that there is no real occasion for your going into company in this sort of way, or ever dining out at all; and it is what you must not depend upon ever being repeated. Nor
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must you be fancying that the invitation is meant as any particular compliment to _you_; the compliment is intended to your uncle and aunt and me. Mrs. Grant thinks it a civility due to _us_ to take a little notice of you, or else it would never have come into her head, and you may be very certain that, if your cousin Julia had been at home, you would not have been asked at all." ¡¡¡¡ Mrs. Norris had now so ingeniously done away all Mrs. Grant's part of the favour, that Fanny, who found herself expected to speak, could only say that she was very much obliged to her aunt Bertram for sparing her, and that she was endeavouring to put her aunt's evening work in such a state as to prevent her being missed.

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Naiade oil painting
Nighthawks Hopper
Nude on the Beach
One Moment in Time
"Upon my word, Fanny, you are in high luck to meet with such attention and indulgence! You ought to be very much obliged to Mrs. Grant for thinking of you, and to your aunt for letting you go, and you ought to look upon it as something extraordinary; for I hope you are aware that there is no real occasion for your going into company in this sort of way, or ever dining out at all; and it is what you must not depend upon ever being repeated. Nor
oil painting
must you be fancying that the invitation is meant as any particular compliment to _you_; the compliment is intended to your uncle and aunt and me. Mrs. Grant thinks it a civility due to _us_ to take a little notice of you, or else it would never have come into her head, and you may be very certain that, if your cousin Julia had been at home, you would not have been asked at all." ¡¡¡¡ Mrs. Norris had now so ingeniously done away all Mrs. Grant's part of the favour, that Fanny, who found herself expected to speak, could only say that she was very much obliged to her aunt Bertram for sparing her, and that she was endeavouring to put her aunt's evening work in such a state as to prevent her being missed.

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Madonna Litta
madonna with the yarnwinder painting
Mother and Child
My Sweet Rose painting
"Thank you, I am _so_ glad," was Fanny's instinctive reply; though when she had turned from him and shut the door, she could not help feeling, "And yet why should I be glad? for am I not certain of seeing or hearing something there to pain me?" ¡¡¡¡ In spite of this conviction, however, she was glad. Simple as such an engagement might appear in other eyes, it had novelty and importance in hers, for excepting the day at Sotherton, she had scarcely
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ever dined out before; and though now going only half a mile, and only to three people, still it was dining out, and all the little interests of preparation were enjoyments in themselves. She had neither sympathy nor assistance from those who ought to have entered into her feelings and directed her taste; for Lady Bertram never thought of being useful to anybody, and Mrs. Norris, when she came on the morrow, in consequence of an early call and invitation from Sir Thomas, was in a very ill humour, and seemed intent only on lessening her niece's pleasure, both present and future, as much as possible.

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jesus christ on the cross
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leonardo da vinci self portrait
Madonna Litta
civility to Miss Price, to Lady Bertram's niece, could never want explanation. The only surprise I can feel is, that this should be the _first_ time of its being paid. Fanny was perfectly right in giving only a conditional answer. She appears to feel as she ought. But as I conclude that she must wish to go, since all young people like to be together, I can see no reason why she should be denied the indulgence." ¡¡¡¡ "But can I do without her, Sir Thomas?"
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¡¡¡¡ "Indeed I think you may." ¡¡¡¡ "She always makes tea, you know, when my sister is not here." ¡¡¡¡ "Your sister, perhaps, may be prevailed on to spend the day with us, and I shall certainly be at home." ¡¡¡¡ "Very well, then, Fanny may go, Edmund." ¡¡¡¡ The good news soon followed her. Edmund knocked at her door in his way to his own. ¡¡¡¡ "Well, Fanny, it is all happily settled, and without the smallest hesitation on your uncle's side. He had but one opinion. You are to go."

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girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
Head of Christ
Hylas and the Nymphs
and deciding, and with very grave looks, and those grave looks directed to her, and at last decide against her, she might not be able to appear properly submissive and indifferent. Her cause, meanwhile, went on well. It began, on Lady Bertram's part, with--"I have something to tell you that will surprise you. Mrs. Grant has asked Fanny to dinner." ¡¡¡¡ "Well," said Sir Thomas, as if waiting more to accomplish the surprise. ¡¡¡¡ "Edmund wants her to go. But how
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can I spare her?" ¡¡¡¡ "She will be late," said Sir Thomas, taking out his watch; "but what is your difficulty?" ¡¡¡¡ Edmund found himself obliged to speak and fill up the blanks in his mother's story. He told the whole; and she had only to add, "So strange! for Mrs. Grant never used to ask her." ¡¡¡¡ "But is it not very natural," observed Edmund, "that Mrs. Grant should wish to procure so agreeable a visitor for her sister?" ¡¡¡¡ "Nothing can be more natural," said Sir Thomas, after a short deliberation; "nor, were there no sister in the case, could anything, in my opinion, be more natural. Mrs. Grant's shewing

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how much more Dr. Grant would enjoy it on Sunday after the fatigues of the day, will not keep beyond to-morrow. These are something like grievances, and make me think the weather most unseasonably close." "The sweets of housekeeping in a country village!" said Miss Crawford archly. "Commend me to the nurseryman and the poulterer." ¡¡¡¡ "My dear child, commend Dr. Grant to the deanery of Westminster or St. Paul's, and I should be as glad of your nurseryman and poulterer as you could be. But we have no such people in Mansfield. What would you have me do?"
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¡¡¡¡ "Oh! you can do nothing but what you do already: be plagued very often, and never lose your temper." ¡¡¡¡ "Thank you; but there is no escaping these little vexations, Mary, live where we may; and when you are settled in town and I come to see you, I dare say I shall find you with yours, in spite of the nurseryman and the poulterer, perhaps on their very account. Their remoteness and unpunctuality, or their exorbitant charges and frauds, will be drawing forth bitter lamentations." ¡¡¡¡ "I mean to be too rich to lament or to feel anything of the sort. A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of. It certainly may secure all the myrtle and turkey part of it."

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know how much we have been suffering, nor what chills we have felt! But I have long thought Mr. Bertram one of the worst subjects to work on, in any little manoeuvre against common sense, that a woman could be plagued with. I had very little hope of _him_ from the first; but you, Mrs. Grant, my sister, my own sister, I think I had a right to alarm you a little." ¡¡¡¡ "Do not flatter yourself, my dearest Mary. You have not the smallest chance of moving me.
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I have my alarms, but they are quite in a different quarter; and if I could have altered the weather, you would have had a good sharp east wind blowing on you the whole time--for here are some of my plants which Robert _will_ leave out because the nights are so mild, and I know the end of it will be, that we shall have a sudden change of weather, a hard frost setting in all at once, taking everybody (at least Robert) by surprise, and I shall lose every one; and what is worse, cook has just been telling me that the turkey, which I particularly wished not to be dressed till Sunday, because I know

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"Well," said Miss Crawford, "and do you not scold us for our imprudence? What do you think we have been sitting down for but to be talked to about it, and entreated and supplicated never to do so again?" ¡¡¡¡ "Perhaps I might have scolded," said Edmund, "if either of you had been sitting down alone; but while you do wrong together, I can overlook a great deal." ¡¡¡¡ "They cannot have been sitting long," cried Mrs. Grant, "for when I went up for
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my shawl I saw them from the staircase window, and then they were walking." ¡¡¡¡ "And really," added Edmund, "the day is so mild, that your sitting down for a few minutes can be hardly thought imprudent. Our weather must not always be judged by the calendar. We may sometimes take greater liberties in November than in May." ¡¡¡¡ "Upon my word," cried Miss Crawford, "you are two of the most disappointing and unfeeling kind friends I ever met with! There is no giving you a moment's uneasiness. You do not

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¡¡¡¡ "You will find his consequence very just and reasonable when you see him in his family, I assure you. I do not think we do so well without him. He has a fine dignified manner, which suits the head of such a house, and keeps everybody in their place. Lady Bertram seems more of a cipher now than when he is at home; and nobody else can keep Mrs. Norris in order. But, Mary, do not fancy that Maria Bertram cares for Henry. I am sure _Julia_ does not, or she would not have flirted as she did last night with Mr. Yates; and though he and Maria are very good friends, I think she likes Sotherton
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too well to be inconstant." ¡¡¡¡ "I would not give much for Mr. Rushworth's chance if Henry stept in before the articles were signed." ¡¡¡¡ "If you have such a suspicion, something must be done; and as soon as the play is all over, we will talk to him seriously and make him know his own mind; and if he means nothing, we will send him off, though he is Henry, for a time." ¡¡¡¡ Julia _did_ suffer, however, though Mrs. Grant discerned it not, and though it escaped the notice of many of her own family likewise. She had loved, she did love still, and she had all

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¡¡¡¡ "You had better tell Miss Bertram to think of Mr. Rushworth. It may do _her_ some good. I often think of Mr. Rushworth's property and independence, and wish them in other hands; but I never think of him. A man might represent the county with such an estate; a man might escape a profession and represent the county." ¡¡¡¡ "I dare say he _will_ be in parliament soon. When Sir Thomas comes, I dare say he will be in for some borough, but there has been nobody to put him in the way of doing anything yet." ¡¡¡¡ "Sir Thomas is to achieve many mighty things when he comes
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home," said Mary, after a pause. "Do you remember Hawkins Browne's 'Address to Tobacco,' in imitation of Pope?-- ¡¡¡¡ Blest leaf! whose aromatic gales dispense To Templars modesty, to Parsons sense. ¡¡¡¡ I will parody them-- ¡¡¡¡ Blest Knight! whose dictatorial looks dispense To Children affluence, to Rushworth sense. ¡¡¡¡ Will not that do, Mrs. Grant? Everything seems to depend upon Sir Thomas's return."

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occurrence, as quietly putting an end to what might ere long have raised expectations in more than Mrs. Grant. She was not pleased to see Julia excluded from the play, and sitting by disregarded; but as it was not a matter which really involved her happiness, as Henry must be the best judge of his own, and as he did assure her, with a most persuasive smile, that neither he nor Julia had ever had a serious thought of each other, she could only renew her
oil painting
former caution as to the elder sister, entreat him not to risk his tranquillity by too much admiration there, and then gladly take her share in anything that brought cheerfulness to the young people in general, and that did so particularly promote the pleasure of the two so dear to her. ¡¡¡¡ "I rather wonder Julia is not in love with Henry," was her observation to Mary. ¡¡¡¡ "I dare say she is," replied Mary coldly. "I imagine both sisters are." ¡¡¡¡ "Both! no, no, that must not be. Do not give him a hint of it. Think of Mr. Rushworth!"

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african art painting ¡¡¡¡ Fanny's heart was not absolutely the only saddened one amongst them, as she soon began to acknowledge to herself. Julia was a sufferer too, though not quite so blamelessly. ¡¡¡¡ Henry Crawford had trifled with her feelings; but she had very long allowed and even sought his attentions, with a jealousy of her sister so reasonable as ought to have been their cure; and now that the conviction of his preference for Maria had been forced on her, she submitted to it without any alarm for Maria's situation, or any endeavour at rational tranquillity for herself. She either sat in gloomy
oil painting
silence, wrapt in such gravity as nothing could subdue, no curiosity touch, no wit amuse; or allowing the attentions of Mr. Yates, was talking with forced gaiety to him alone, and ridiculing the acting of the others. ¡¡¡¡ For a day or two after the affront was given, Henry Crawford had endeavoured to do it away by the usual attack of gallantry and compliment, but he had not cared enough about it to persevere against a few repulses; and becoming soon too busy with his play to have time for more than one flirtation, he grew indifferent to the quarrel, or rather thought it a lucky

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
Rembrandt Painting
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interest it excited in the breast of another young lady. Miss Crawford, on walking up with her brother to spend the evening at Mansfield Park, heard the good news; and though seeming to have no concern in the affair beyond politeness, and to have vented all her feelings in a quiet congratulation, heard it with an attention not so easily satisfied. Mrs. Norris gave the particulars of the letters, and the subject was dropt; but after tea, as Miss Crawford was standing at an open window with Edmund and Fanny looking out on a twilight scene, while the Miss Bertrams, Mr. Ru
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shworth, and Henry Crawford were all busy with candles at the pianoforte, she suddenly revived it by turning round towards the group, and saying, "How happy Mr. Rushworth looks! He is thinking of November." ¡¡¡¡ Edmund looked round at Mr. Rushworth too, but had nothing to say.

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
The Singing Butler
Rembrandt Painting
¡¡¡¡ Maria was more to be pitied than Julia; for to her the father brought a husband, and the return of the friend most solicitous for her happiness would unite her to the lover, on whom she had chosen that happiness should depend. It was a gloomy prospect, and all she could do was to throw a mist over it, and hope when the mist cleared away she should see something else. It would hardly be _early_ in November, there were generally delays, a bad passage or _something_; that favouring _something_ which everybody who shuts their eyes while they look, or their u
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nderstandings while they reason, feels the comfort of. It would probably be the middle of November at least; the middle of November was three months off. Three months comprised thirteen weeks. Much might happen in thirteen weeks. ¡¡¡¡ Sir Thomas would have been deeply mortified by a suspicion of half that his daughters felt on the subject of his return, and would hardly have found consolation in a knowledge of

Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Sunflower
Edward Hopper Painting
Mary Cassatt painting
¡¡¡¡ It was a beautiful evening, mild and still, and the drive was as pleasant as the serenity of Nature could make it; but when Mrs. Norris ceased speaking, it was altogether a silent drive to those within. Their spirits were in general exhausted; and to determine whether the day had afforded most pleasure or pain, might occupy the meditations of almost all.¡¡¡¡CHAPTER XI ¡¡¡¡ The day at Sotherton, with all its imperfections, afforded the Miss Bertrams much
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more agreeable feelings than were derived from the letters from Antigua, which soon afterwards reached Mansfield. It was much pleasanter to think of Henry Crawford than of their father; and to think of their father in England again within a certain period, which these letters obliged them to do, was a most unwelcome exercise. ¡¡¡¡ November was the black month fixed for his return. Sir Thomas wrote of it with as much decision as experience and anxiety could authorise. His business was so nearly concluded as to justify him in proposing to take his passage in the September packet, and he consequently looked forward with the hope of being with his beloved family again early in November

William Bouguereau

William Bouguereau
The Birth of Venus
Marc Chagall Painting
treasure! She was quite shocked when I asked her whether wine was allowed at the second table, and she has turned away two housemaids for wearing white gowns. Take care of the cheese, Fanny. Now I can manage the other parcel and the basket very well." ¡¡¡¡ "What else have you been spunging?" said Maria, half-pleased that Sotherton should be so complimented. ¡¡¡¡ "Spunging, my dear! It is nothing but four of those beautiful pheasants' eggs, which Mrs.
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Whitaker would quite force upon me: she would not take a denial. She said it must be such an amusement to me, as she understood I lived quite alone, to have a few living creatures of that sort; and so to be sure it will. I shall get the dairymaid to set them under the first spare hen, and if they come to good I can have them moved to my own house and borrow a coop; and it will be a great delight to me in my lonely hours to attend to them. And if I have good luck, your mother shall have some."

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"It is a pleasure to see a lady with such a good heart for riding!" said he. "I never see one sit a horse better. She did not seem to have a thought of fear. Very different from you, miss, when you first began, six years ago come next Easter. Lord bless you! how you did tremble when Sir Thomas first had you put on!" ¡¡¡¡ In the drawing-room Miss Crawford was also celebrated. Her merit in being gifted by Nature with strength and courage was fully appreciated by the
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Miss Bertrams; her delight in riding was like their own; her early excellence in it was like their own, and they had great pleasure in praising it. ¡¡¡¡ "I was sure she would ride well," said Julia; "she has the make for it. Her figure is as neat as her brother's." ¡¡¡¡ "Yes," added Maria, "and her spirits are as good, and she has the same energy of character. I cannot but think that good horsemanship has a great deal to do with the mind." ¡¡¡¡ When they parted at night Edmund asked Fanny whether she meant to ride the next day.

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¡¡¡¡ "No part of it fatigues me but getting off this horse, I assure you," said she, as she sprang down with his help; "I am very strong. Nothing ever fatigues me but doing what I do not like. Miss Price, I give way to you with a very bad grace; but I sincerely hope you will have a pleasant ride, and that I may have nothing but good to hear of this dear, delightful, beautiful animal." ¡¡¡¡ The old coachman, who had been waiting about with his own horse
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, now joining them, Fanny was lifted on hers, and they set off across another part of the park; her feelings of discomfort not lightened by seeing, as she looked back, that the others were walking down the hill together to the village; nor did her attendant do her much good by his comments on Miss Crawford's great cleverness as a horse-woman, which he had been watching with an interest almost equal to her own.

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¡¡¡¡ "My dear Miss Price," said Miss Crawford, as soon as she was at all within hearing, "I am come to make my own apologies for keeping you waiting; but I have nothing in the world to say for myself--I knew it was very late, and that I was behaving extremely ill; and therefore, if you please, you must forgive me. Selfishness must always be forgiven, you know, because there is no hope of a cure." ¡¡¡¡ Fanny's answer was extremely civil, and Edmund added
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his conviction that she could be in no hurry. "For there is more than time enough for my cousin to ride twice as far as she ever goes," said he, "and you have been promoting her comfort by preventing her from setting off half an hour sooner: clouds are now coming up, and she will not suffer from the heat as she would have done then. I wish _you_ may not be fatigued by so much exercise. I wish you had saved yourself this walk home."

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stopped entirely. Edmund was close to her; he was speaking to her; he was evidently directing her management of the bridle; he had hold of her hand; she saw it, or the imagination supplied what the eye could not reach. She ¡¡¡¡ must not wonder at all this; what could be more natural than that Edmund should be making himself useful, and proving his good-nature by any one? She could not but think, indeed, that Mr. Crawford might as well have saved him the trouble; that it would have been particularly proper and becoming in a brother to have done it himself; but Mr. Crawford,
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with all his boasted good-nature, and all his coachmanship, probably knew nothing of the matter, and had no active kindness in comparison of Edmund. She began to think it rather hard upon the mare to have such double duty; if she were forgotten, the poor mare should be remembered. ¡¡¡¡ Her feelings for one and the other were soon a little tranquillised by seeing the party in the meadow disperse, and Miss Crawford still on horseback, but attended by Edmund on foot, pass through a gate into the lane, and so into the park, and make towards the spot where she stood. She began then to be afraid of appearing rude and impatient; and walked to meet them with a great anxiety to avoid the suspicion.

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"Oh yes! she ought not to have spoken of her uncle as she did. I was quite astonished. An uncle with whom she has been living so many years, and who, whatever his faults may be, is so very fond of her brother, treating him, they say, quite like a son. I could not have believed it!" ¡¡¡¡ "I thought you would be struck. It was very wrong; very indecorous." ¡¡¡¡ "And very ungrateful, I think." "Ungrateful is a strong word. I do not know that her uncle has any claim to her _gratitude_; his wife certainly had; and it is the warmth of her respect for her aunt's memory which
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misleads her here. She is awkwardly circumstanced. With such warm feelings and lively spirits it must be difficult to do justice to her affection for Mrs. Crawford, without throwing a shade on the Admiral. I do not pretend to know which was most to blame in their disagreements, though the Admiral's present conduct might incline one to the side of his wife; but it is natural and amiable that Miss Crawford should acquit her aunt entirely. I do not censure her _opinions_; but there certainly _is_ impropriety in making them public."

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have made me so remiss; but now I could go and sit a few hours with Mrs. Rushworth, while the rest of you walked about and settled things, and then we could all return to a late dinner here, or dine at Sotherton, just as might be most agreeable to your mother, and have a pleasant drive home by moonlight. I dare say Mr. Crawford would take my two nieces and me in his barouche, and Edmund can go on horseback, you know, sister, and Fanny will stay at home with you." ¡¡¡¡ Lady Bertram made no objection; and every one concerned in the going was forward in expressing
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their ready concurrence, excepting Edmund, who heard it all and said nothing.¡¡¡¡CHAPTER VII ¡¡¡¡ "Well, Fanny, and how do you like Miss Crawford _now_?" said Edmund the next day, after thinking some time on the subject himself. "How did you like her yesterday?" ¡¡¡¡ "Very well--very much. I like to hear her talk. She entertains me; and she is so extremely pretty, that I have great pleasure in looking at her." ¡¡¡¡ "It is her countenance that is so attractive. She has a wonderful play of feature! But was there nothing in her conversation that struck you, Fanny, as not quite right?"

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Mrs. Grant, hearing the latter part of this speech, enforced it warmly, persuaded that no judgment could be equal to her brother's; and as Miss Bertram caught at the idea likewise, and gave it her full support, declaring that, in her opinion, it was infinitely better to consult with friends and disinterested advisers, than immediately to throw the business into the hands of a professional man, Mr. Rushworth was very ready to request the favour of Mr. Crawford's assistance; and Mr. Crawford, after properly depreciating his own abilities, was quite at his service in any way that could be useful. Mr. Rushworth then began to propose Mr. Crawford's doing him the honour of coming over to Sotherton,
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and taking a bed there; when Mrs. Norris, as if reading in her two nieces' minds their little approbation of a plan which was to take Mr. Crawford away, interposed with an amendment. ¡¡¡¡ "There can be no doubt of Mr. Crawford's willingness; but why should not more of us go? Why should not we make a little party? Here are many that would be interested in your improvements, my dear Mr. Rushworth, and that would like to hear Mr. Crawford's opinion on the spot, and that might be of some small use to you with _their_ opinions; and, for my own part, I have been long wishing to wait upon your good mother again; nothing but having no horses of my own could

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¡¡¡¡ Sir Thomas, however, was truly happy in the prospect of an alliance so unquestionably advantageous, and of which he heard nothing but the perfectly good and agreeable. It was a connexion exactly of the right sort-- in the same county, and the same interest--and his most hearty concurrence was conveyed as soon as possible. He only conditioned that the marriage should not take place before his return, which he was again looking eagerly forward to. He wrote in April, and had strong hopes of settling everything to his entire satisfaction, and leaving Antigua before the end
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of the summer. ¡¡¡¡ Such was the state of affairs in the month of July; and Fanny had just reached her eighteenth year, when the society of the village received an addition in the brother and sister of Mrs. Grant, a Mr. and Miss Crawford, the children of her mother by a second marriage. They were young people of fortune. The son had a good estate in Norfolk, the daughter twenty thousand pounds. As children, their sister had been always very fond of them; but, as her own marriage had been soon followed by the death of their common parent, which left them to

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van gogh painting After dancing with each other at a proper number of balls, the young people justified these opinions, and an engagement, with a due reference to the absent Sir Thomas, was entered into, much to the satisfaction of their respective families, and of the general lookers-on of the neighbourhood, who had, for many weeks past, felt the expediency of Mr. Rushworth's marrying Miss Bertram. ¡¡¡¡ It was some months before Sir Thomas's consent could be received;
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but, in the meanwhile, as no one felt a doubt of his most cordial pleasure in the connexion, the intercourse of the two families was carried on without restraint, and no other attempt made at secrecy than Mrs. Norris's talking of it everywhere as a matter not to be talked of at present. ¡¡¡¡ Edmund was the only one of the family who could see a fault in the business; but no representation of his aunt's could induce him to find Mr. Rushworth a desirable companion. He could allow his sister to be the best judge of her own happiness, but he was not pleased that her happiness should centre in a large income; nor could he refrain from often saying to himself, in Mr. Rushworth's company-- "If this man had not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow."

Dance Me to the End of Love

Dance Me to the End of Love
Evening Mood painting
female nude reclining
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Their homes were so distant, and the circles in which they moved so distinct, as almost to preclude the means of ever hearing of each other's existence during the eleven following years, or, at least, to make it very wonderful to Sir Thomas that Mrs. Norris should ever have it in her power to tell them, as she now and then did, in an angry voice, that Fanny had got another child. By the end of eleven years, however, Mrs. Price could no longer afford to cherish pride or resentment, or to lose one connexion that might possibly assist her. A large and still increasing family, an husband disabled
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for active service, but not the less equal to company and good liquor, and a very small income to supply their wants, made her eager to regain the friends she had so carelessly sacrificed; and she addressed Lady Bertram in a letter which spoke so much contrition and despondence, such a superfluity of children, and such a want of almost everything else, as could not but dispose them all to a reconciliation. She was preparing for her ninth lying-in; and after bewailing the circumstance, and imploring their countenance as sponsors to the expected child, she could not conceal how important she felt they might be to the future maintenance of the eight already

A Lily Pond

A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
fortune, or connexions, did it very thoroughly. She could hardly have made a more untoward choice. Sir Thomas Bertram had interest, which, from principle as well as pride--from a general wish of doing right, and a desire of seeing all that were connected with him in situations of respectability, he would have been glad to exert for the advantage of Lady Bertram's sister; but her husband's profession was such as no interest could reach; and before he had time to devise any other method of assisting them, an absolute breach between the sisters had taken place. It was the natural result of the conduct of each party, and such as a very imprudent marriage almost always produces. To save herself from useless
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remonstrance, Mrs. Price never wrote to her family on the subject till actually married. Lady Bertram, who was a woman of very tranquil feelings, and a temper remarkably easy and indolent, would have contented herself with merely giving up her sister, and thinking no more of the matter; but Mrs. Norris had a spirit of activity, which could not be satisfied till she had written a long and angry letter to Fanny, to point out the folly of her conduct, and threaten her with all its possible ill consequences. Mrs. Price, in her turn, was injured and angry; and an answer, which comprehended each sister in its bitterness, and bestowed such very disrespectful reflections on the pride of Sir Thomas as Mrs. Norris could not possibly keep to herself, put an end to all intercourse between them for a considerable period.

William Bouguereau Biblis painting

Biblis painting
William Bouguereau Biblis
Charity painting
Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
About thirty years ago Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the county of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet's lady, with all the comforts and consequences of an handsome house and large income. All Huntingdon exclaimed on the greatness of the match, and her uncle, the lawyer, himself, allowed her to be at least three thousand pounds short of any equitable claim to it. She had two sisters to be benefited by her elevation; and such of their acquaintance as thought Miss Ward and Miss Frances quite as handsome as Miss Maria, did not scruple to predict their marrying with
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almost equal advantage. But there certainly are not so many men of large fortune in the world as there are pretty women to deserve them. Miss Ward, at the end of half a dozen years, found herself obliged to be attached to the Rev. Mr. Norris, a friend of her brother-in-law, with scarcely any private fortune, and Miss Frances fared yet worse. Miss Ward's match, indeed, when it came to the point, was not contemptible: Sir Thomas being happily able to give his friend an income in the living of Mansfield; and Mr. and Mrs. Norris began their career of conjugal felicity with very little less than a thousand a year. But Miss Frances married, in the common phrase, to disoblige her family, and by fixing on a lieutenant of marines, without education,

female nude reclining

female nude reclining
flaming june painting
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Tents, lunch, and croquet utensils had been sent on beforehand, the party was soon embarked, and the two boats pushed off together, leaving Mr. Laurence waving his hat on the shore. Laurie and Jo rowed one boat; Mr. Brooke and Ned the other; while Fred Vaughn, the riotous twin, did his best to upset both by paddling about in a wherry like a disturbed water-bug. Jo's funny hat deserved a word of thanks, for it was of general utility; it broke the ice in the beginning,
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by producing a laugh; it created quite a refreshing breeze, flapping to and fro as she rowed, and would make an excellent umbrella for the whole party if a shower came up, she said. Kate looked rather amazed at Jo's proceedings, especially as she exclaimed `Christopher Columbus!' when she lost her oar; and Laurie said, `My dear fellow, did I hurt you?' when he tripped over her feet in taking his place. But after putting up her glass to examine the queer girl several times, Miss Kate decided that she was `odd, but rather clever', and smiled upon her from afar.

flaming june painting

flaming june painting
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
¡¡¡¡Laurie ran to meet and present them to his friends in the most cordial manner. The lawn was the reception room, and for several minutes a lively scene was enacted there. Meg was grateful to see that Miss Kate, though twenty, was dressed with a simplicity that American girls would do well to imitate; and she was much flattered by Mr. Ned's assurances that he came especially to see her. Jo understood why Laurie `primmed up his mouth' when
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speaking of Kate, for that young lady had a stand-off-don't-touch-me air, which contrasted strongly with the free and easy demeanour of the other girls. Beth took an observation of the new boys, and decided that the lame one was not `dreadful', but gentle and feeble, and she would be kind to him on that account. Amy found Grace a well-mannered, merry little person; and after staring dumbly at one another for a few minutes, they suddenly became very good friends.

girl with a pearl earring vermeer

girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
Head of Christ
Hylas and the Nymphs
a crutch. Laurie didn't tell us that. Be quick, girls! it's getting late. Why, there is Ned Moffat, I do declare. Look, Meg, isn't that the man who bowed to you one day when we were shopping?' ¡¡¡¡`So it is. How queer that he should come. I thought he was at the Mountains. There is Sallie; I'm glad she's got back in time. Am I all right, Jo?' cried Meg, in a flutter. ¡¡¡¡`A regular daisy. Hold up your dress and put your hat straight; it looks sentimental tipped that
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way, and will fly off at the first puff. Now then, come on!' ¡¡¡¡`Oh, Jo, you are not going to wear that awful hat? It's too absurd! You shall not make a guy of yourself,' remonstrated Meg, as Jo tied down, with a red ribbon, the broad-brimmed old-fashioned Leghorn Laurie had sent for a joke. ¡¡¡¡`I just will, though, for it's capital - so shady, light, and big. It will make fun; and I don't mind being a guy if I'm comfortable.' With that Jo marched straight away, and the rest followed - a bright little band of sisters, all looking their best, in summer suits, with happy faces under the jaunty hat-brims.

Hylas and the Nymphs

Hylas and the Nymphs
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for the approaching separation, and Amy had capped the climax by putting a clothes-pin on her nose, to uplift the offending feature. It was one of the kind artists used to hold the paper on their drawing-boards, therefore quite appropriate and effective for the purpose to which it was now put. This funny spectacle appeared to amuse the sun, for he burst out with such radiance that Jo woke up, and roused all her sisters by a hearty laugh at Amy's ornament.
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¡¡¡¡Sunshine and laughter were good omens for a pleasure party, and soon a lively bustle began in both houses. Beth, who was ready first, kept reporting what went on next door, and enlivened her sisters' toilets by frequent telegrams from the window. ¡¡¡¡`There goes the man with the tent! I see Mrs. Barker doing up the lunch in a hamper and a great basket. Now Mr. Laurence is looking up at the sky and the weathercock; I wish he would go too. There's Laurie, looking like a sailor - nice boy! Oh, mercy me! here's a carriage full of people - a tall lady, a little girl, and two dreadful boys. One is lame; poor thing, he's got

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leonardo da vinci the last supper
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pudding, which quite melted in one's mouth; likewise the jellies, in which Amy revelled like a fly in a honeypot. Everything turned out well; which was a mercy, Hannah said, "For my mind was that flustered, mum, that it's a merrycle I didn't roast the pudding, and stuff the turkey with raisins, let alone bilin' of it in a cloth." ¡¡¡¡Mr. Laurence and his grandson dined with them, also Mr. Brooke - at whom Jo glowered darkly, to Laurie's infinite amusement. Two easy-chairs stood side by side at the head of the table, in which sat Beth and her father, feasting modestly on chicken and
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a little fruit. They drank healths, told stories, sang songs, "reminisced", as the old folk say, and had a thoroughly good time. A sleigh-ride had been planned, but the girls would not leave their father; so the guests departed early, and, as twilight gathered, the happy family sat together round the fire. ¡¡¡¡"Just a year ago we were groaning over the dismal Christmas we expected to have. Do you remember?" asked Jo, breaking a short pause which had followed a long conversation about many things. "Rather a pleasant year on the whole!" said Meg, smiling at the fire, and congratulating herself on having treated Mr. Brooke with dignity.

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remembered that Mr. March needed rest, and, seizing Laurie, he precipitately retired. Then the two invalids were ordered to repose, which they did, by both sitting in one big arm-chair, and talking hard. ¡¡¡¡Mr. March told how he had longed to surprise them, and how when the fine weather came, he had been allowed by his doctor to take advantage of it; how devoted Brooke had been, and how he was altogether a most estimable and upright young man. Why Mr. March paused a minute just there, and, after a glance at Meg, who was violently poking the fire, looked at his wife
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with an inquiring lift of the eyebrows, I leave you to imagine; also why Mrs. March gently nodded her head, and asked, rather abruptly, if he wouldn't have something to eat. Jo saw and understood the look; and she stalked grimly away to get beef-tea, muttering to herself, as she slammed the door, "I hate estimable young men with brown eyes!" ¡¡¡¡There never was such a Christmas dinner as they had that day. The fat turkey was a sight to behold, when Hannah sent him up, stuffed, browned, and decorated; so was the plum

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blessed her buttons, and begged her to `come and take a walk, dear!' in his most affable tone. She would very gladly have gone out to enjoy the bright wintry weather; but, discovering that Laurie was dropping with sleep in spite of manful efforts to conceal the fact, she persuaded him to rest on the sofa, while she wrote a note to her mother. She was a long time about it, and, when she returned, he was stretched out, with both arms under his head,
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sound asleep, while Aunt March had pulled down the curtains, and sat doing nothing in an unusual fit of benignity. ¡¡¡¡After a while, they began to think he was not going to wake till night, and I'm not sure that he would, had he not been effectually roused by Amy's cry of joy at sight of her mother. There probably were a good many happy little girls in and about the city that day, but it is my private opinion that Amy was the happiest of all, when she sat in her mother's lap and told her trials, receiving consolation and compensation in the shape of approving smiles and fond caresses. They were alone together in the little room, to which her mother did not object when its purpose was explained to her.

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which the storm occasioned on the homeward journey, and the unspeakable comfort Laurie's hopeful face had given her when she arrived, worn out with fatigue, anxiety, and cold. ¡¡¡¡What a strange, yet pleasant day that was! so brilliant and gay without, for all the world seemed abroad to welcome the first snow; so quiet and reposeful within, for everyone slept, spent with watching, and a sabbath stillness reigned through the house, while nodding Hannah mounted guard at the door. With a blissful sense of burdens lifted off, Meg and Jo closed their weary eyes, and lay at rest, like storm-beaten boats, safe at anchor in a quiet harbour. Mrs. March would not leave Beth's side, but rested in the big chair, waking often to look at, touch, and brood over her child, like a miser over some recovered treasure. ¡¡¡¡Laurie, meanwhile, pos
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ted off to comfort Amy, and told his story so well that Aunt March actually "sniffed" herself, and never once said, "I told you so". Amy came out so strong on this occasion that I think the good thoughts in the little chapel really began to bear fruit. She dried her tears quickly, restrained her impatience to see her mother, and never even thought of the turquoise ring, when the old lady heartily agreed in Laurie's opinion, that she behaved "like a capital little woman". Even Polly seemed impressed, for he called her "good girl

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When he had gone, she went to her little room, and sitting in the twilight, prayed for Beth, with streaming tears and an aching heart, feeling that a million turquoise rings would not console her for the loss of her gentle little sister. ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡chapter 20 Confidential ¡¡¡¡I don't think I have any words in which to tell the meeting of the mother and daughters; such hours are beautiful to live, but very hard to describe, so I will leave it to the imagination of my readers, merely saying that the house was full of genuine happiness, and that Meg's tender hope was realized; for when Beth woke from that long, healing sleep, the first objects on which her eyes fell were the little rose and Mother's face. Too weak to
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wonder at anything, she only smiled, and nestled close into the loving arms about her, feeling that the hungry longing was satisfied at last. Then she slept again, and the girls waited upon their mother; for she would not unclasp the thin hand which clung to hers even in sleep. ¡¡¡¡Hannah had "dished up" an astonishing breakfast for the traveller, finding it impossible to vent her excitement in any other way; and Meg and Jo fed their mother like dutiful young storks, while they listened to her whispered account of Father's state, Mr. Brooke's promise to stay and nurse him, the delays

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Dr. Bangs came, said Beth had symptoms of the fever, but thought she would have it lightly, though he looked sober over the Hummel story. Amy was ordered off at once, and, provided with something to ward off danger, she departed in great state, with Jo and Laurie as escort. ¡¡¡¡Aunt March received them with her usual hospitality. ¡¡¡¡`What do you want now?' she asked, looking sharply over her spectacles, while the parrot, sitting on the back of her chair,
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called out: ¡¡¡¡`Go away. No boys allowed here.' ¡¡¡¡Laurie retired to the window, and Jo told her story. ¡¡¡¡`No more than I expected, if you are allowed to go poking about among poor folks. Amy can stay and make herself useful, if she isn't sick, which I've no doubt she will be - looks like it now. Don't cry, child, it worries me to hear people sniff.' ¡¡¡¡Amy was on the point of crying, but Laurie slyly pulled the parrot's tail, which caused Polly to utter an astonished croak, and call out, `Bless my boots!' in such a funny way, that she laughed instead. ¡¡¡¡`What do you hear from your mother?' asked the old lady, gruffly.

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That is what troubles me,' said Meg. `I think we ought to tell her if Beth is really ill, but Hannah says we mustn't, for Mother can't leave Father, and it will only make them anxious. Beth won't be sick long, and Hannah knows just what to do, and Mother said we were to mind her, so I suppose we must, but it doesn't seem quite right to me.' ¡¡¡¡`Hum, well, I can't say; suppose you ask grandfather after the doctor has been.' ¡¡¡¡`We will. Jo, go and get Dr. Bangs
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at once,' commanded Meg; `we can't decide anything till he has been.' ¡¡¡¡`Stay where you are, Jo; I'm errand-boy to this establishment,' said Laurie, taking up his cap. ¡¡¡¡`I'm afraid you are busy,' began Meg. ¡¡¡¡`No, I've done my lessons for today.' ¡¡¡¡`Do you study in vacation time?' asked Jo. ¡¡¡¡`I follow the good example my neighbours set me,' was Laurie's answer, as he swung himself out of the room. ¡¡¡¡`I have great hopes of my boy,' observed Jo, watching him fly over the fence with an approving smile. ¡¡¡¡`He does very well - for a boy,' was Meg's somewhat ungracious answer, for the subject did not interest her.

claude monet impressionism painting

claude monet impressionism painting
impressionism monet painting
monet oil painting
¡¡¡¡`Good girl! Call Meg, and tell her you'll give in,' said Laurie, with an approving pat, which annoyed Amy more than the `giving in'. ¡¡¡¡Meg and Jo came running down to behold the miracle which had been wrought and Amy, feeling very precious and self-sacrificing, promised to go, if the doctor said Beth was going to be ill. ¡¡¡¡`How is the little dear?' asked Laurie; for Beth was his especial pet, and he felt more anxious about her than he liked to show. ¡¡¡¡
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`She is lying down on Mother's bed, and feels better. The baby's death troubled her, but I dare say she has only got cold. Hannah says she thinks so; but she looks worried, and that makes me fidgety,' answered Meg. ¡¡¡¡`What a trying world it is!' said Jo, rumpling up her hair in a fretful sort of way. `No sooner do we get out of one trouble than down comes another. There doesn't seem to be anything to hold on to when Mother's gone; so I'm all at sea.' ¡¡¡¡`Well, don't make a porcupine of yourself, it isn't becoming. Settle your wig, Jo, and tell me if I shall telegraph to your mother or do anything?' asked Laurie, who never had been reconciled to the loss of his friend's one beauty.

lotus flower painting

lotus flower painting
flower field painting
flower painting rose
red flower painting
Bless your heart, child, it's to keep you well. You don't want to be sick, do you?' ¡¡¡¡`No, I'm sure I don't; but I dare say I shall be, for I've been with Beth all the time.' ¡¡¡¡`That's the very reason you ought to go away at once, so that you may escape it. Change of air and care will keep you well, I dare say; or, if it does not entirely, you will have the fever more lightly. I advise you to be off as soon as you can, for scarlet fever is no joke, miss.' ¡¡¡¡`But it's dull at Aunt March's,
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and she is so cross,' said Amy, looking rather frightened. ¡¡¡¡`It won't be dull with me popping in every day to tell you how Beth is, and take you out gallivanting. The old lady likes me, and I'll be as sweet as possible to her, so she won't peck at us, whatever we do.' ¡¡¡¡`Will you take me out in the trotting waggon with Puck?' ¡¡¡¡`On my honour as a gentleman.' ¡¡¡¡`And come every single day?' ¡¡¡¡`See if I don't.' ¡¡¡¡`And bring me back the minute Beth is well?' ¡¡¡¡`The identical minute.' ¡¡¡¡`And go to the hall, truly?' ¡¡¡¡`A dozen halls, if we may.' ¡¡¡¡`Well - I guess - I will,' said Amy, slowly.

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
The Singing Butler
Rembrandt Painting
afternoon, the boy said to himself, with the resolve to make the sacrifice cheerfully, `I'll let my castle go, and stay with the dear old gentleman while he needs me, for I am all he has.' ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡chapter 14 Secrets ¡¡¡¡Jo was very busy in the garret, for the October days began to grow chilly, and the afternoons were short. For two or three hours the sun lay warmly in the high window, showing Jo seated on the old sofa, writing busily, with her papers spread out upon a trunk before her, while Scrabble, the pet rat, promenaded the beams overhead, accompanied by his young fellow, who was
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evidently very proud of his whiskers. Quite absorbed in her work, Jo scribbled away till the last page was filled, when she signed her name with a flourish, and threw down her pen, exclaiming: ¡¡¡¡`There, I've done my best! If this won't suit, I shall have to wait till I can do better.' ¡¡¡¡Lying back on the sofa, she read the manuscript carefully through, making dashes here and there, and putting in many exclamation points, which looked like little balloons; then she tied it up with a smart, red ribbon, and sat a minute looking at it with a sober, wistful expression, which plainly showed how earnest her work had been. Jo's desk up here was an old tin

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
Van Gogh Painting
Van Gogh Sunflower
¡¡¡¡Bent on showing that he was not offended, he made himself as agreeable as possible - wound cotton for Meg, recited poetry to please Jo, shook down cones for Beth, and helped Amy with her ferns, proving himself a fit person to belong to the `Busy Bee Society'. In the midst of an animated discussion on the domestic habits of turtles (one of those amiable creatures having strolled up from the river), the faint sound of a bell warned them that Hannah had put the tea `to draw', and they would just have time to get home to supper. ¡¡¡¡`May I come again?' asked Laurie. ¡¡¡¡`Yes,
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if you are good, and love your book, as the boys in the primer are told to do,' said Meg, smiling. ¡¡¡¡`I'll try.' ¡¡¡¡`Then you may come, and I'll teach you to knit as the Scotchmen do; there's a demand for socks just now,' added Jo, waving hers, like a big, blue worsted banner, as they parted at the gate. ¡¡¡¡That night, when Beth played to Mr. Laurence in the twilight, Laurie, standing in the shadow of the curtain, listened to the little David, whose simple music always quieted his moody spirit, and watched the old man, who sat with his grey head on his hand, thinking tender thoughts of the dead child he had loved so much. Remembering the conversation of the

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting
William Bouguereau
The Birth of Venus
Marc Chagall Painting
We haven't; don't be angry, and oh, don't tell him I said anything! It was only to show that I cared how you get on, and what is said here is said in confidence, you know,' cried Meg, much alarmed at the thought of what might follow from her careless speech. ¡¡¡¡`I don't tell tales,' replied Laurie, with his `high and mighty' air, as Jo called a certain expression which he occasionally wore, `only, if Brooke is going to be a barometer, I must mind and
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have fair weather for him to report.' ¡¡¡¡`Please don't be offended. I didn't mean to preach or tell tales or be silly; I only thought Jo was encouraging you in a feeling which you'd be sorry for by and by. You are so kind to us, we feel as if you were our brother, and say just what we think. Forgive me. I meant it kindly.' And Meg offered her hand with a gesture both affectionate and timid. ¡¡¡¡Ashamed of his momentary pique, Laurie squeezed the kind little hand, and said frankly, `I'm the one to be forgiven; I'm cross, and have been out of sorts all day. I like to have you tell me my faults and be sisterly, so don't mind if I am grumpy sometimes; I thank you all the same.'

leonardo da vinci the last supper

leonardo da vinci the last supper
mona lisa painting
mona lisa smile
thomas kinkade gallery
LAMENT. FOR S. B. PAT PAW. ¡¡¡¡We mourn the loss of our little pet, And sigh o'er her hapless fate, For never more by the fire she'll sit, Nor play by the old green gate. ¡¡¡¡The little grave where her infant sleeps Is 'neath the chestnut tree; But o'er her grave we may not weep, We know not where it may be. ¡¡¡¡Her empty bed, her idle ball, Will never see her more; No gentle tap, no loving purr Is heard at the parlour door. ¡¡¡¡Another cat comes after her mice, A c
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at with a dirty face; But she does not hunt as our darling did, Nor play with her airy grace. ¡¡¡¡Her stealthy paws tread the very hall Where Snowball used to play, But she only spits at the dogs our pet So gallantly drove away. ¡¡¡¡She is useful and mild, and does her best, But she is not fair to see; And we cannot give her your place, dear, Nor worship her as we worship thee. ¡¡¡¡A. S. ¡¡¡¡ADVERTISEMENTS. ¡¡¡¡Miss Oranthy Bluggage, the accomplished Strong-Minded Lecturer, will deliver her famous Lecture on "WOMAN AND HER POSITION", at Pickwick Hall, next Saturday Evening, after the usual performances.

mona lisa smile

mona lisa smile
thomas kinkade gallery
thomas kinkade painting
thomas kinkade picture
into a tub of water, upset a keg of soft soap upon his manly form, and torn his garments badly. On being removed from his perilous situation, it was discovered that he had suffered no injury but several bruises; and, we are happy to add, is now doing well. ED. ¡¡¡¡The Public Bereavement. ¡¡¡¡It is our painful duty to record the sudden and mysterious disappearance of our cherished friend, Mrs Snowball Pat Paw. This lovely and beloved cat was the pet of a
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large circle of warm and admiring friends; for her beauty attracted all eyes, her grace and virtues endeared her to all hearts, and her loss is deeply felt by the whole community. ¡¡¡¡When last seen, she was sitting at the gate, watching the butcher's cart; and it is feared that some villain, tempted by her charms, basely stole her. Weeks have passed but no trace of her has been discovered; and we relinquish all hope, tie a black ribbon to her basket, set aside her dish, and weep for her as one lost to us for ever. ¡¡¡¡A sympathising friend sends the following gem:--

claude monet painting

claude monet painting
mona lisa painting
canvas painting
animal painting
Jo's only answer was to hold her mother close, and, in the silence which followed, the sincerest prayer she had ever prayed left her heart without words; for in that sad yet happy hour she had learned not only the bitterness of remorse and despair, but the sweetness of self-denial and self-control; and, led by her mother's hand, she had drawn nearer to the friend who welcomes every child with a love stronger than that of any father, tenderer than that of any mother. ¡¡¡¡Amy stirred, and sighed in her sleep; and, as if eager to begin at once to mend her fault, Jo looked up with an
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expression on her face which it had never worn before. ¡¡¡¡`I let the sun go down on my anger; I wouldn't forgive her, and today, if it hadn't been for Laurie, it might have been too late! How could I be so wicked?' said Jo, half aloud, as she leaned over her sister, softly stroking the wet hair scattered on the pillow. ¡¡¡¡As if she heard, Amy opened her eyes, and held out her arms, with a smile that went straight to Jo's heart. Neither said a word, but they hugged one another close, in spite of the blankets, and everything was forgiven and forgotten in one hearty kiss.