Bowen

“ Bowen, although deferential in his deportment towards the captain, and ever treating him with a good show of respect, was in reality master of the brig; his advice being solicited on the most trivial occasion, and every suggestion he made in relation to the management of the vessel was eagerly seized upon by the captain. Indeed, Bowen was a model of a mate; industrious, economical, and faithful, treating the crew with kindness and consideration, yet exacting their full quota of labor. ”

“ Bowen’s articles were, like his elder brother’s, extremely witty. In later life he could seldom be induced to write, having fallen out of the habit, and being, indeed, too busy to carry on any large piece of work; but the occasional papers on educational subjects he produced showed no decline in his vivacity or in the abundance of his humour. Those who knew the range and the resources of his mind sometimes regretted that he would do nothing to let the world know them. ”

“ Half-way across the Park Bowen turned in the direction of Kingston Gate and, a minute later, drew up just off the roadway. Having stopped the engine he turned to her.
"Now, Patricia," he said with a smile, "I am at your mercy. There is no one within hail."
Bowen's voice recalled her from dreamland. She was thinking how different everything might have been, but for that unfortunate unconvention. With an effort she came down to earth to find Bowen smiling into her eyes. ”

“ A stone crashed up at the balcony and again came: "Glencoe!"
He glanced at the clock and rang a bell; when the servant appeared in answer, he asked for lights. "And order the coach," he said.
The man hesitated, stopped.
"My lord—my lord—you will not go abroad?"
"To my Lord Breadalbane's reception," answered the Earl. "My lord—does your lordship hear the mob?"
The Earl flared with impatience.
"I do not ask your attendance—if there be one man in my service not a coward let him drive, it will suffice." ”

“ In private life Bowen was remarkable for the vivacity of his wit, for the charm of his manner — described by his biographer as 'almost deferential urbanity' — and a profound reserve which made it doubtful whether any one knew him with real intimacy. He was the author of many apt and much-quoted sayings, of which perhaps the most famous is his suggested amendment of a proposed address by the judges to the sovereign upon the opening of the royal courts of justice. ”

“ This time, the drummer took no umbrage at the hated word “Frisco.” Instead, he put out his hand with quick affability.
“Glad to meet you, Mr. Bowen! Here’s my card. Going to the Palace?”
Before the lean man could respond, the fat man leaned forward in his chair. He stared intently at Bowen, then spoke.
“Do I understand, sir,” he squeaked, “that you are Robert Bowen, and that you have sold the Yellow Jack mine?”
“You do,” said Bowen, eying him.
“Upon my word!” The ejaculation was one of surprise and was followed by a chuckle. “My name is Dickover—of New York, Mr. Bowen. ”

“ Bowen had frequently met him at Tonopah.
“Miss Ferguson, allow me to introduce Mr. Saunders. Miss Ferguson is my partner at present, Gus, in a deal we’ve got on hand; looks like a big one, and we need your help.”
“That’s my business,” and the broker smiled.
“There’s a curb stock by the name of—”
“Hold on!” Saunders flung up his hands. “Don’t talk curb stock to me. Don’t touch the stuff, and you ought to know it!”
“Shut up till I get through!” snapped Bowen, and grinned. “You’re refusing no good business that comes along; and I’m paying you any commission on this job that you care to name. ”

“ A bitter little smile curved the Cardinal's lips.
"Is that the way men care for women?" he said. "Certes, not in that manner had I wooed and remembered, had I been a—a—lover."
"Strange that we, meeting here like this, should talk of love!" cried Theirry, his heart heaving, his eyes dilating, "strange that I, driven round the world by fear of God, that I, coming here to one of God's own saints, should find myself in the Devil's net again; come, he has done much for you, what will he do for me?" ”

“ Their eyes exchanged the same message of comprehension, of surmise.
"You think," said the girl suddenly, "that Dickover is taking control of Apex Crown?"
Bowen was silent for so long that the silence became painful.
"No," he returned at last. "No. I don't think he is. My cool judgment says he is not. But what's judgment anyhow? You hang on to that stock, Miss Ferguson!"
She flushed a little, but her eyes dwelt on his. "I—I need the money it would bring at twenty cents," she faltered. "And yet—look here, Mr. Bowen! ”

“ Bowen is a delightfully laid-out town on the shores of Port Denison. It is inhabited by some six hundred people—mostly official loafers and spongers of the worst type. The community consists of boozy squatters, snobbish wives of snobbish officials, anaemic old maids, obsequious tradesmen on the verge of insolvency, and two respectable and hard-working persons—the latter are Chinamen. The 'tony' society of Bowen is about as lively and intelligent as that of a decaying Cathedral town in the old country. ”

“ Bowen turned toward the house.
"Wait a minute, Mrs. Walker," called a young voice, full of kindness; "here's my umberell. It'll save your bonnet, any how; and it's a real purty one. But didn't I hear you say somebody was sick over to your son's house?"
"Yes, darlin'," answered the old woman as she took the umbrella; "it's Johnny himself; he's right bad, they say. I just got word about an hour ago, and left everything, and started off. They think he's got the small-pox."
Jenny Bowen, the young girl who [Pg 13] had brought the umbrella, looked terribly frightened. ”

“ Bowen is!"
Frank did not know it; but he was indebted for this gift to Susan's suggestion. When her master told her in the morning that Frank was coming to dinner, she said, "It's a pity the boy hadn't some better clothes."
"I didn't notice his clothes," said Mr. Bowen. "Are they shabby?"
"Yes; and they are almost worn out. They don't look fit for one who is going to sit at your table." ”

“ Dickover abandoned the subject, after an apoplectic choke.
“Tell you what, Bowen; that tip of yours sent me up to Tonopah in a hurry. I looked up Henderson and fired him—fired him good and hard. The confounded crook! Now I need another man to take his place. A man I can trust, and a man who can be trusted. Ten thousand a year if the man makes good.”
“Too bad you didn’t look around at Tonopah,” said Bowen innocently. “I know heaps of good men up that way. You should have gone to Judge Lyman or Tom Jerkens or some of those men and had ’em pick you out a nice responsible party for that job. ”

“ She interrupted: "Sir—I do not think you have failed to find those who would answer that question."
"Ah, let me speak," he said gently, "let me say that I do find you made to be loved—"
"Sir! do you usually so play with words with every stranger?" she cried.
"Why, never before," he smiled, "and are we strangers—did you not say we had one creed—one King—one aim?"
"Ah, I do think you palter with me!" cried Delia with the distress of one drawn and netted against her will. "Mr. Caryl is late—"
"I would he were later," said Mr. Wedderburn. ”

“ Bowen laughed again. "She'd be as safe as in a bank! Nothing ever goes on! Nothing that ever happens here is real."
"Ah, quant � cela--" the Frenchman murmured, inserting a fork into his melon. Bowen looked at him with enjoyment--he was such a precious foot-note to the page! The two men, accidentally thrown together some years previously during a trip up the Nile, always met again with pleasure when Bowen returned to France. Raymond de Chelles, who came of a family of moderate fortune, lived for the greater part of the year on his father's estates in Burgundy ”

“ Even this confinement irks me. If I live, I shall go back to my ambitions.”
“Something is wrong,” said Carola; “you or I—or God.”
“Why?” he answered, with a grave gentleness. “I thought you had found happiness.”
“I have found an opiate, Monsieur.”
They were both silent; then she turned towards the door.
Her splendid dress was as incongruous here as it had been in the wet fields; it jarred on Luc to see her in such surroundings.
He turned suddenly and followed her. “You beautiful, foolish woman,” he cried, “what are you doing in a convent? Go back to Versailles.” ”

“ Lord Bowen was regarded with great affection by all who knew him either professionally or privately. He had a polished and graceful wit, of which many instances might be given, although such anecdotes lose force in print. For example, when it was suggested on the occasion of an address to Queen Victoria, to be presented by her judges, that a passage in it, “conscious as we are of our shortcomings,” suggested too great humility, he proposed the emendation “conscious as we are of one another’s shortcomings” ”

“ Her face was as full of splendour
As the primrose woods in spring,
When God bends through the branches,
To hear the mavis sing.
She was but a Mary Martyr, cursed for her heresy,
But her eyes were clear as water and troubled the heart in me."
The Countess rose swiftly.
"Are you glad to be in London?" she said; she came towards him, swinging her gloves; he was aware of the perfume of her garments, of the heavy soft sound of her moving velvet.
"I think I am leaving again for Paris, madam," he looked at her straightly. "Shall I not fetch Miss Chressham?"
"No," answered Lady Lyndwood. ”

“ She turned as some one standing on defense.
"What do you mean?"
A slight smile crossed his face; it might have been sadness or contempt; he leaned heavily against the Abbey wall and his shadow was over Delia.
"What do I mean?" he repeated; he looked at her in a very gentle manner. "I mean I should like to be in your thoughts sometimes—"
She rose, and her muff fell unnoticed between them. ”

“ Bowen's I used to think that it was Miss Graham in whom he was interested——"
"I can assure you," interrupted Colville, "that she was never interested in him."
"Oh no; I didn't suppose that," returned the old man tranquilly. "And I've since had reason to revise my opinion. I think he is interested in Mrs. Bowen."
"Mrs. Bowen! And you think that would be a mitigating circumstance in his acceptance of money from her? If he had the spirit of a man at all, it would make it all the more revolting."
"Oh no, oh no," softly pleaded Mr. Waters. "We must not look at these things too romantically. ”

“ He could hardly control his features and his voice.
“I must appeal to Your Highness—in the name of the States,” he said thickly, “for we have no hope but in you....”
“What do you mean, my lord?” asked William softly.
Coenraad Beuningen rose.
“I think these men have made private overtures to Your Highness,” he answered, “and you are free to take them ... but ... have pity on the country.” He clasped his hand passionately over his heart. “To such wretched straits are we reduced.... Ah, they tempted your ambition I doubt not, but if Your Highness would be truly great, save the United Provinces.” ”

“ Besides, Dickover had certainly known just how his words and manner to Bowen would be seen and recognized; Dickover had tried to do him a good turn. He was justified in taking advantage of the situation.
"Frankly, Harkness," said Bowen slowly, "I don't want to name any names. I'm here to try and dispose of same low-grade properties; rich in ore, but not in rich ore. Maybe you know that the Dickover people touch nothing but pretty rich propositions in the silver field." ”

“ Though a clergyman, Alexander Bowen was not above mercenary impulses, and the mere reference, whether it had been meant or not, to a jeweled chalice made him unwilling to disapprove of anything such an influential hostess might do or say. [Pg 25]
"Iris owes so much to her aunt," the rector said smilingly, "of course she takes such little jests in good part."
"She'd better," and Ursula Pell nodded her head; "if she knows which side her bread is buttered, she'll kiss the hand that strikes her."
"If it doesn't strike too hard," put in Mrs. Bowen, unable to resist some slight comment. ”

“ Invisible and potent powers drew him towards her unseen face; his lips touched and kissed its softness....
The thunder sounded with such a terrific force and clash that Theirry sprang back; a cry of agony went up from the darkness. He ran blindly forward; her presence had gone from his side, nor could he see or feel her as he moved. He ran sobbing down down the Appian Way, and his pace was very swift, for all the mail he carried. ”

“ Honest. I’m a business man. Now, suppose you sit down and let me dictate a letter to Judge Lyman. I don’t mean to send it, but I mean your broker friend to hear me dictating. When he comes in, nod and smile and tell him to wait.”
The girl sat down before her machine and slipped a sheet of paper into the roll.
“All ready?” asked Bowen. “Then shoot!”
“My dear Judge:
“I’m here in the big town and having the time of my life. Them are the exact words. I yesterday met your erstwhile stenographer, Miss Ferguson, who has an office of her own and deserves it. ”

“ BOWEN, JOHN (1756–1832) , painter and genealogist, was the eldest son of James Bowen, painter and topographer, of Shrewsbury [q. v.] , and was born in that city in 1756. Bowen studied the local antiquities under his father; traced out the pedigrees of Shropshire families, and became especially skilful in deciphering and copying ancient manuscripts. ”

“ Walker said; "it a'most seems to me that, if I had Johnny the way he was last week, I wouldn't complain about anything. We think too much of our little hardships, Mr. Bowen,—a good deal too much!" And Mrs. Walker looked at the clouds, perhaps in the hope that their blackness would frighten the tears away from her eyes. John was her own boy,—forty years old, to be sure, but still a boy to her,—and he was very sick.
"Well, I don't know," Mr. Bowen said, opening the mouth of the horse and looking in it; "we all have our troubles, an' if it ain't one thing it's another. ”