Barchester Towers

Front Cover
General Books LLC, 2010 - 330 pages
Excerpt: ...as nearly upright as she ever did, and he had brought a chair close to the sofa, so that there was only the corner of the table between him and her. It so happened that as she spoke her hand lay upon the table, and as Mr Slope answered her he put his hand upon hers. 'No heart!' said he. 'That is a very heavy charge which you bring against yourself, and one of which I cannot find you guilty-' She withdrew her hand, not quickly and angrily, as though insulted by his touch, but gently and slowly. 'You are in no condition to give a verdict on the matter, ' said she, 'as you have not tried me. No; don't say that you intend doing so, for you know you have no intention of the kind; nor indeed have I either. As for you, you will take your vows where they will result in something more substantial than the pursuit of such a ghostlike, ghastly love as mine-' 'Your love should be sufficient to satisfy the dream of a monarch, ' said Mr Slope, not quite clear as to the meaning of his words. 'Say an archbishop, Mr Slope, ' said she. Poor fellow! She was very cruel to him. He went round again upon his cork on this allusion to his profession. He tried, however, to smile, and gently accused her of joking on a matter, which was, he said, to him of such vital moment. 'Why-what gulls do you men make of us, ' she replied. 'How you fool us to the top of our bent; and of all men you clergymen are the most fluent of your honeyed caressing words. Now look me in the face, Mr Slope, boldly and openly.' Mr Slope did look at her with a languishing loving eye, and as he did so, he again put forth his hand to get hold of hers. 'I told you to look at me boldly, Mr Slope; but confine your boldness to your eyes.' 'Oh, Madeline, ' he sighed. 'Well, my name is Madeline, ' said she; 'but none except my own family usually call me so. Now look me in the face, Mr Slope. Am I to understand that you say you love me?' Mr Slope never had said so. If he had come there with any formed plan at...

About the author (2010)

Novelist Anthony Trollope was born in London, England on April 24, 1815. He attended many famous schools but as a large, awkward boy, he never felt in place among the aristocrats he met there. In 1834, he became a junior clerk in the General Post Office, London. He spent seven years there in poverty until his transfer, in 1841, to Banagher, Ireland as a deputy postal surveyor. He became more financially secure and in 1844, he married Rose Heseltine. He wanted to discover the reasons for Irish discontent. In 1843, he began working on his first novel The Macdermots of Ballycloran which was published in 1847. He was sent on many postal missions. He spent a year is Belfast, in 1853, then went to Donnybrook, near Dublin. He also went to Egypt, Scotland and the West Indies to finally settle outside of London, at Waltham Cross, as a surveyor general in the Post Office. At this point, he was writing constantly. Some of the writings during this time were The Noble Jilt, Barchester Towers, and The Last Chronicle of Barset. In 1867, he tried editorship of St. Paul's Magazine but soon gave up because he didn't feel suited for the job. In 1871, he went on a visit to a son in Australia. At sea, he wrote Lady Anna on the voyage out and Australia and New Zealand on the voyage back. The Autobiography was written between October 1875 and April 1876 but was not published until after his death. Suffering from asthma and possible angina pectoris, he moved to Harting Grange. He wrote three more novels during 1881 than, in 1882, went to Ireland to begin research for The Landleaguers. In November that year, he suffered a paralytic stroke and he died on December 6, 1882.

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