His forbearance on the present occasion, I attributed to the very handsome riding-dress in which he had encased his slight and elegant form.

A contest with a strong, powerful young fellow like me, might have ended in its demolition: Slashing his boot with his riding-whip, and glancing carelessly towards the window, he said, with an air of perfect indifference, "Well, if the rain means to pour in this way all day, it is certain that I cannot prosecute my journey to Dover on horseback.

I must take the coach, and leave the groom to follow with the horses." "Dover!" I repeated, with an involuntary start, "are you off for France ?" "Yes" (with a weary yawn); "I shall not return until I have made the tour of Europe, and I just stepped in for a moment to say good-by." "_Unusually_ kind," said I, with a sneer.
He remained silent for a few minutes, and seemed slightly embarrassed, as if he found difficulty in bringing out what he had to say.
"Geoffrey, I may be absent several years.

It is just possible that we may never meet again." "I hope so," was the response in my heart, while he continued, "Your time in this office expires when you reach your majority.

Our paths in life are very different, and from that period I must insist upon our remaining perfect strangers to each other." Before I had time to answer his ungracious speech, he turned upon his heel and left the office, and me literally foaming with passion.
"Thank God he is gone!" cried Harrison.