There & Back
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George MacDonald. There & Back
NOTE
CHAPTER I. FATHER, CHILD, AND NURSE
CHAPTER II. STEPMOTHER AND NURSE
CHAPTER III. THE FLIGHT
CHAPTER IV. THE BOOKBINDER AND HIS PUPIL
CHAPTER V. THE MANSONS
CHAPTER VI. SIMON ARMOUR
CHAPTER VII. COMPARISONS
CHAPTER VIII. A LOST SHOE
CHAPTER IX. A HOLIDAY
CHAPTER X. THE LIBRARY
CHAPTER XI. ALICE
CHAPTER XII. MORTGRANGE
CHAPTER XIII. THE BEECH-TREE
CHAPTER XIV. THE LIBRARY
CHAPTER XV. BARBARA WYLDER
CHAPTER XVI. BARBARA AND RICHARD
CHAPTER XVII. BARBARA AND OTHERS
CHAPTER XVIII. MRS. WYLDER
CHAPTER XIX. MRS. WYLDER AND BARBARA
CHAPTER XX. BARBARA AND HER CRITICS
CHAPTER XXI. THE PARSON’S PARABLE
CHAPTER XXII. THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER
CHAPTER XXIII. A HUMAN GADFLY
CHAPTER XXIV. RICHARD AND WINGFOLD
CHAPTER XXV. WING FOLD AND HIS WIFE
CHAPTER XXVI. RICHARD AND ALICE
CHAPTER XXVII. A SISTER
CHAPTER XXVIII. BARBARA AND LADY ANN
CHAPTER XXIX. ALICE AND BARBARA
CHAPTER XXX. BARBARA THINKS
CHAPTER XXXI. WINGFOLD AND BARBARA
CHAPTER XXXII. THE SHOEING OF MISS BROWN
CHAPTER XXXIII. RICHARD AND VIXEN
CHAPTER XXXIV. BARBARA’S DUTY
CHAPTER XXXV. THE PARSON’S COUNSEL
CHAPTER XXXVI. LADY ANN MEDITATES
CHAPTER XXXVII. LADY ANN AND RICHARD
CHAPTER XXXVIII. RICHARD AND ARTHUR
CHAPTER XXXIX. MR., MRS., AND MISS WYLDER
CHAPTER XL. IN LONDON
CHAPTER XLI. NATURE AND SUPERNATURE
CHAPTER XLII. YET A LOWER DEEP
CHAPTER XLIII. TO BE REDEEMED, ONE MUST REDEEM
CHAPTER XLIV. A DOOR OPENED IN HEAVEN
CHAPTER XLV. THE CARRIAGE
CHAPTER XLVI. RICHARD’S DILEMMA
CHAPTER XLVII. THE DOORS OF HARMONY AND DEATH
CHAPTER XLVIII. DEATH THE DELIVERER
CHAPTER XLIX. THE CAVE IN THE FIRE
CHAPTER L. DUCK-FISTS
CHAPTER LI. BARONET AND BLACKSMITH
CHAPTER LII. UNCLE-FATHER AND AUNT-MOTHER
CHAPTER LIII. MORNING
CHAPTER LIV. BARBARA AT HOME
CHAPTER LV. MISS BROWN
CHAPTER LVI. WINGFOLD AND BARBARA
CHAPTER LVII. THE BARONET’S WILL
CHAPTER LVIII. THE HEIR
CHAPTER LIX. WINGFOLD AND ARTHUR MANSON
CHAPTER LX. RICHARD AND HIS FAMILY
CHAPTER LXI. HEART TO HEART
CHAPTER LXII. THE QUARREL
CHAPTER LXIII. BARONET AND BLACKSMITH
CHAPTER LXIV. THE BARONET’S FUNERAL
CHAPTER LXV. THE PACKET
CHAPTER LXVI. BARBARA’S DREAM
Отрывок из книги
It would be but stirring a muddy pool to inquire—not what motives induced, but what forces compelled sir Wilton Lestrange to marry a woman nobody knew. It is enough to say that these forces were mainly ignoble, as manifested by their intermittent character and final cessation. The mésalliance occasioned not a little surprise, and quite as much annoyance, among the county families,—failing, however, to remind any that certain of their own grandmothers had been no better known to the small world than lady Lestrange. It caused yet more surprise, though less annoyance, in the clubs to which sir Wilton had hitherto been indebted for help to forget his duties: they set him down as a greater idiot than his friends had hitherto imagined him. For had he not been dragged to the altar by a woman whose manners and breeding were hardly on the level of a villa in St. John’s Wood? Did any one know whence she sprang, or even the name which sir Wilton had displaced with his own? But sir Wilton himself was not proud of his lady; and if the thing had been any business of theirs, it would have made no difference to him; he would none the less have let them pine in their ignorance. Did not his mother, a lady less dignified than eccentric, out of pure curiosity beg enlightenment concerning her origin, and receive for answer from the high-minded baronet, “Madam, the woman is my wife!”—after which the prudent dowager asked no more questions, but treated her daughter-in-law with neither better nor worse than civility. Sir Wilton, in fact, soon came to owe his wife a grudge that he had married her, and none the less that at the time he felt himself of a generosity more than human in bestowing upon her his name. Creation itself, had he ever thought of it, would have seemed to him a small thing beside such a gift!
That Robina Armour, after experience of his first advances, should have at last consented to marry sir Wilton Lestrange, was in no sense in her favour, although after a fashion she was in love with him—in love, that is, with the gentleman of her own imagining whom she saw in the baronet; while the baronet, on his part, was what he called in love with what he called the woman. As he was overcome by her beauty, so was she by his rank—an idol at whose clay feet is cast many a spiritual birthright—and as mean a deity as any of man’s device. But the blacksmith’s daughter was in many respects, notwithstanding, a woman of good sense, with much real refinement, and a genuine regard for rectitude. Although sir Wilton had never loved her with what was best in him, it was not in spite of what was best in him that he fell in love with her. Had his better nature been awake, it would have justified the bond, and been strengthened by it.
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“For my part,” said Arthur, “I feel like a book that needs to be fresh printed, not to say fresh bound! I don’t feel why I am what I am. I would part with it all, except just being the same man!”
While the youths were having their talk, Alice was in Jane’s bedroom, undergoing an examination, the end and object of which it was impossible she should suspect. Caught by a certain look in her sweet face, reminding her of a look that was anything but sweet, Jane had set herself to learn from her what she might as to her people and history.
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