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They met there on the evening of Adair's return from Haredale College, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
Adair, standing beside Sophy at the piano,...had no cause to find fault with Fortune, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
"I believe it," she murmured, and held out her...hand, which he raised reverently to his lips, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
"Then I suppose, my darling, I may congratulate you," said Henny, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
On a certain evening the Canon was sitting with his sister, as usual..., 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
The dinner passed off without a hitch; the topic of conversation was chiefly Cambridge..., 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
"This is the communication received this morning"...he placed in his hands the lawyer's letter, 1883 Creator: R. Taylor.
 
He stepped lightly to the foot of the bed, and gazed earnestly at the little occupant, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
They spoke to one another in hoarse whispers, and seemed to be on intimate terms, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
He has his back to the door, and takes it for granted that the new-comer is his sister, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
But, on looking up, his eyes fell upon the sick man, now...staring at him with stern suspicion, 1883 Creator: R. Taylor.
 
He had a telegram in his hand which he had just received and which he was...twisting nervously, 1883 Creator: R. Taylor.
 
Their Christmas Dinner - Turkey, drawn by G. King, 1883. Creator: Eugène Froment.
 
Their Christmas Dinner - Goose, drawn by G. King, 1883. Creator: Eugène Froment.
 
He found Dawson...smoking a pipe, and drinking hot brandy-and-water, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
The Canon sat with this juvenile testament...as though it had been [a] manuscript of Milton, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
"He is coming," said Jeannette, in a warning voice, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
Sophy took the flowers and...with neat-handed skill...arranged them, and gave them to her maid, 1883 Creator: R. Taylor.
 
As the Canon sat alone in his college rooms...he thinks of these things, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
So these two old friends sat down, and lit their pipes, and talked together, heart...to heart, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
"Don't speak to me like that, guardian, I am not worthy of it," cried the unhappy Sophy..., 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
"You must be mad, Mr. Perry, to come here at such an hour as this," she exclaimed indignantly, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
There was a song going on, too, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
Then, looking up in her trouble and perplexity, she caught sight of her own face in the glass, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
Sophy, huddled upon the sofa,...her...hands hiding her pretty face, answered only by her sobs, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
Their road lay through the lime walk, almost deserted now, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
While he was yet speaking the door opened, and two ladies entered the room, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.
 
She took the glass, but purposely turned it on the wrong boat, 1883. Creator: R. Taylor.