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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Mr. Isaacs"


"That is what I came to ask you about. We shall all meet there at dinner
this evening, and I wanted to secure as many allies as possible."
"You may count on me, Lord Steepleton, at all events. There is nothing I
should enjoy better than such a fortnight's holiday, in such good
company."
"All right," said Lord Steepleton, rising, "I must be off now to
Peterhof. It is an organised movement on Mr. Ghyrkins this evening,
then. Is it understood?" He took his bearskin from the table, and
prepared to go, pulling his straps and belts into place, and dusting a
particle of ash from his sleeve.
"Perfectly," I answered. "We will drag him forth into the arena before
three days are past." We shook hands, and he went out.
I was glad he had come, though I had been waked from a pleasant nap to
reeeive him. He was so perfectly gay, and natural, and healthy, that one
could not help liking him. You felt at once that he was honest and would
do the right thing in spite of any one, according to his light; that he
would stand by a friend in danger, and face any odds in fight, with as
much honest determination to play fair and win, as he would bring to a
cricket match or a steeple-chase. His Irish blood gave him a somewhat
less formal manner than belongs to the Englishman; more enthusiasm and
less regard for "form," while his good heart and natural courtesy would
lead him right in the long-run.


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