Mr. Witt's Widow: A Frivolous Tale

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Hope Anthony. Mr. Witt's Widow: A Frivolous Tale

CHAPTER I. HOW GEORGE NESTON JUMPED

CHAPTER II. WHY GEORGE NESTON JUMPED

CHAPTER III “WHAT ARE QUARTER-SESSIONS?”

CHAPTER IV. A SERPENT IN EDEN

CHAPTER V. THE FIRST PARAGRAPH – AND OTHERS

CHAPTER VI. A SUCCESSFUL ORDEAL

CHAPTER VII. AN IMPOSSIBLE BARGAIN

CHAPTER VIII. THE FRACAS AT MRS. POCKLINGTON’S

CHAPTER IX. GERALD NESTON SATISFIES HIMSELF

CHAPTER X. REMINISCENCES OF A NOBLEMAN

CHAPTER XI. PRESENTING AN HONEST WOMAN

CHAPTER XII. NOT BEFORE THOSE GIRLS!

CHAPTER XIII. CONTAINING MORE THAN ONE ULTIMATUM

CHAPTER XIV. NEAERA’S LAST CARD

CHAPTER XV. A LETTER FOR MR. GERALD

CHAPTER XVI. THERE IS AN EXPLOSION

CHAPTER XVII. LAURA DIFFERS

CHAPTER XVIII. GEORGE NEARLY GOES TO BRIGHTON

CHAPTER XIX. SOME ONE TO SPEAK TO

CHAPTER XX. FATE’S INSTRUMENTS

Отрывок из книги

“How could I ever have forgotten?” said George, aloud, as he walked home. “I remember her now as if it was yesterday.”

The picture was now complete in his mind: the little, muggy court at Peckton; old Dawkins, his wig black with age, the rest of him brown with snuff; the fussy clerk; the prosecuting counsel, son to the same fussy clerk; he himself, thrusting his first guinea into his pocket with shaking hand and beating heart (nervous before old Daw! Imagine!); the fat, peaceful policeman; the female warder, in her black straw-bonnet trimmed with dark-blue ribbons; and last of all, in the dock, a young girl, in shabby, nay, greasy, black, with pale cheeks, disordered hair, and swollen eyelids, gazing in blank terror on the majesty of the law, strangely expressed in the Recorder’s ancient person. And, beyond all doubt or imagination of a doubt, the girl was Gerald’s bride, Neaera Witt.

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Gerald was pleased. He liked to see his taste endorsed with the approbation of his friends. “It’s about time old George, here, followed suit, isn’t it, Tommy? I’ve given him a lead.”

George’s attachment to Isabel Bourne was an accepted fact among his acquaintance. He never denied it: he did like her very much, and meant to marry her, if she would have him. And he did not really doubt that she would. If he had doubted, he would not have been so content to rest without an express assurance. As it was, there was no hurry. Let the practice grow a little more yet. He and Isabel understood one another, and, as soon as she was ready, he was ready. But long engagements were a nuisance to everybody. These were his feelings, and he considered himself, by virtue of them, to be in love with Isabel. There are many ways of being in love, and it would be a want of toleration to deny that George’s is one of them, although it is certainly very unlike some of the others.

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