Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I.
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Lever Charles James. Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I.
CHAPTER I. AFTER MESS
CHAPTER II. THE SWAN’S NEST
CHAPTER III. A DIFFICULT PATIENT
CHAPTER IV. HOME DIPLOMACIES
CHAPTER V. THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND
CHAPTER VI. WAITING ON
CHAPTER VII. THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOR
CHAPTER VIII. A PUZZLING COMMISSION
CHAPTER IX. A BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE
CHAPTER X. LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN
CHAPTER XI. CAVE CONSULTS SIR BROOK
CHAPTER XII. A GREAT MAN’S SCHOOLFELLOW
CHAPTER XIII. LAST DAYS
CHAPTER XIV. TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER
CHAPTER XV. MR. HAIRE’S MISSION
CHAPTER XVI. SORROWS AND PROJECTS
CHAPTER XVII. A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY
CHAPTER XVIII. THE FIRST LETTER HOME
CHAPTER XIX. OFFICIAL MYSTERIES
CHAPTER XX. IN COURT
CHAPTER XXI. A MORNING CALL
CHAPTER XXII. COMING-HOME THOUGHTS
CHAPTER XXIII. A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING
CHAPTER XXIV. A MORNING AT THE PRIORY
CHAPTER XXV. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
CHAPTER XXVI. SIR BROOK IN CONFUSION
CHAPTER XXVII. THE TWO LUCYS
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE NEST WITH STRANGE “BIRDS” IN IT
CHAPTER XXIX. SEWELL VISITS CAVE
CHAPTER XXX. THE RACES ON THE LAWN
CHAPTER XXXI. SEWELL ARRIVES IN DUBLIN
CHAPTER XXXII. MORNING AT THE PRIORY
CHAPTER XXXIII. EVENING AT THE PRIORY
CHAPTER XXXIV. SEWELL’S TROUBLES
CHAPTER XXXV. BEATTIE’S RETURN
CHAPTER XXXVI. AN EXIT
CHAPTER XXXVII. A STORMY MOMENT
CHAPTER XXXVIII. A LADY’S LETTER
CHAPTER XXXIX. SOME CONJUGAL COURTESIES
CHAPTER XL. MR. BALFOUR’S OFFICE
CHAPTER XLI. THE PRIORY IN ITS DESERTION
CHAPTER XLII. NECESSITIES OP STATE
CHAPTER XLIII. MR. BALFOUR’S MISSION
CHAPTER XLIV. AFTER-DINNER THOUGHTS
CHAPTER XLV. THE TIDELESS SHORES
Отрывок из книги
The mess was over, and the officers of H. M.‘s – th were grouped in little knots and parties, sipping their coffee, and discussing the arrangements for the evening. Their quarter was that pleasant city of Dublin, which, bating certain exorbitant demands in the matter of field-day and guard-mounting, stands pre-eminently first in military favor.
“Are you going to that great ball in Merrion Square?” asked one., “Not so lucky; not invited.”
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“Tell me of papa’s. Come here, Tom,” cried she, as the two young men came towards her, “and listen to a bit of divination.”
“Nay, I never promised a lecture. I offered a confidence,” said he, in a half whisper; but she went on: “Sir Brook says that he reads people pretty much as Cuvier pronounced on a mastodon, by some small minute detail that pertained to them. Here’s Tom’s cigar-case,” said she, taking it from his pocket; “what do you infer from that, sir?”
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