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Then he forgot the tardiness of cross-country posts, and outran his letter, so that he found no one to meet him at Bickleypool; and on driving up to the gate at Ebbscreek, found all looking deserted.
Actuated by all these motives, he declined the offer of hospitality, and rowed across to Bickleypool, enlightening the Captain on the state of affairs as far as he desired. Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And you the toast of all the town, I sighed and said, amang them a', Ye are not Mary Morison. Mrs.
Miss Conway gave a very pretty smile of sympathy and consolation, that shone like a sunbeam on her beautiful pensive features and dark, soft eyes. Then she began to admire the view, as they stood on the turf, beside Captain Hannaford's two small cannon, overlooking the water towards Bickleypool, with a purple hill rising behind it.
I'll send her a note; we will cross to Bickleypool, and start by the mail-train this very night. Louis made no objection, and James hurried him into the little parlour, where in ten minutes the note was dashed off: My Own Most Precious One! We will meet when I claim you in the face of day, without the sense of stolen felicity, which is a charm to common-place minds.
My father has been with me all the evening. 'Oh! his double-ganger visits you. That accounts for your freaks. 'Double-gangers seldom come in yellow-bodied flys. 'His lordship in propria persona. You don't mean it. 'He is sleeping at the 'George' at Bickleypool.
On the afternoon following the expedition to Bickleypool, Louis was seated, with an earthenware pan before him, coaxing an actinia with raw beef to expand her blossom, to be copied for Miss Faithfull. Another bowl stood near, containing some feathery serpulas; and the weeds were heaped on the locker of the window behind him, and on the back of the chair which supported his lame foot.
Louis's lip curled somewhat; but he said no more, and made no objections to the arrangements which his father proceeded to detail. Doubtful of the accommodations of Ebbscreek, Lord Ormersfield had prudently retained his fly, and though Louis, intending to sleep on the floor, protested that there was plenty of room, he chose to return to the inn at Bickleypool.
'If you stay much longer, he will not retain his senses, muttered James Frost, who was leaning backwards against the counter, where the bewildered bookseller of the little coast-town of Bickleypool was bustling, in the vain endeavour to understand and fulfil the demands of that perplexing customer, Lord Fitzjocelyn. 'Some drawing-paper. This is hardly absorbent enough.
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