| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Legend of Montrose by Walter Scott: a very small box made of oakwood, curiously inlaid. "I take you
to witness," he said, "cousin Menteith, that I give this box and
its contents to Annot Lyle. It contains a few ornaments that
belonged to my poor mother--of trifling value, you may guess, for
the wife of a Highland laird has seldom a rich jewel-casket."
"But these ornaments," said Annot Lyle, gently and timidly
refusing the box, "belong to the family--I cannot accept--"
"They belong to me alone, Annot," said Allan, interrupting her;
"they were my mother's dying bequest. They are all I can call my
own, except my plaid and my claymore. Take them, therefore--they
are to me valueless trinkets--and keep them for my sake--should I
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Mistress Wilding by Rafael Sabatini: the Duke's to all sense of the respect due to His Grace.
"I think," said Wilding quietly, "that you have forgotten something."
"Forgotten what?" bawled Grey.
"His Grace's presence."
His lordship turned crimson, his anger swelled to think that the very
terms of the rebuke precluded his allowing his feelings a free rein.
Monmouth leaned forward. "Sit down," he said to Grey, and Grey, so
lately called to the respect he owed His Grace, obeyed him. "You will
both promise me that this affair shall go no further. I know you will
do it if I ask you, particularly when you remember how few are the
followers upon whom I may depend. I am not in case to lose either of
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Europeans by Henry James: I know perfectly where I must go. Mr. Wentworth informs me that
the carriage is always at my disposal, and Charlotte offers to go
with me, in a pair of tight gloves and a very stiff petticoat.
And yet for three days I have been putting it off.
They must think me horribly vicious."
"You ask me to apologize," said Acton, "but you don't tell me
what excuse I can offer."
"That is more," the Baroness declared, "than I am held to. It would
be like my asking you to buy me a bouquet and giving you the money.
I have no reason except that--somehow--it 's too violent an effort.
It is not inspiring. Would n't that serve as an excuse, in Boston?
|
