The Golden Calf M E Braddon

ISBN: 9781517163273

Published: September 2nd 2015

Paperback

392 pages


Description

The Golden Calf  by  M E Braddon

The Golden Calf by M E Braddon
September 2nd 2015 | Paperback | PDF, EPUB, FB2, DjVu, talking book, mp3, ZIP | 392 pages | ISBN: 9781517163273 | 10.23 Mb

Where is Miss Palliser? inquired Miss Pew, in that awful voice of hers, at which the class-room trembled, as at unexpected thunder. A murmur ran along the desks, from girl to girl, and then some one, near that end of the long room which was sacredMoreWhere is Miss Palliser? inquired Miss Pew, in that awful voice of hers, at which the class-room trembled, as at unexpected thunder. A murmur ran along the desks, from girl to girl, and then some one, near that end of the long room which was sacred to Miss Pew and her lieutenants, said that Miss Palliser was not in the class-room.

I think she is taking her music lesson, maam, faltered the girl who had ventured diffidently to impart this information to the schoolmistress. Think? exclaimed Miss Pew, in her stentorian voice. How can you think about an absolute fact? Either she is taking her lesson, or she is not taking her lesson. There is no room for thought. Let Miss Palliser be sent for this moment. At this command, as at the behest of the Homeric Jove himself, half a dozen Irises started up to carry the rulers message- but again Miss Pews mighty tones resounded in the echoing class-room.

I dont want twenty girls to carry one message. Let Miss Rylance go. There was a grim smile on the principals coarsely-featured countenance as she gave this order. Miss Rylance was not one of the six who had started up to do the schoolmistresss bidding. She was a young lady who considered her mission in life anything rather than to carry a message-a young lady who thought herself quite the most refined and elegant thing at Mauleverer Manor, and so entirely superior to her surroundings as to be absolved from the necessity of being obliging.

But Miss Pews voice, when fortified by anger, was too much even for Miss Rylances calm sense of her own merits, and she rose at the ladys bidding, laid down her ivory penholder on the neatly written exercise, and walked out of the room quietly, with the slow and stately deportment imparted by a long course of instruction from Madame Rigolette, the fashionable dancing-mistress



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