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There was a tremendous hullaboo about something, and I craned to see over the shoulder of the man in front. "Order, order, order!" "What's it about?" I asked. The man in front of me was clearly no better informed, and then I gathered from a slightly contemptuous Scotchman beside me that it was Chris Robinson had walked between the honourable member in possession of the house and the Speaker.
She would get her frocks from Madame Modiste, and her hats from the Avenue specialists; she would be a smart and a conspicuous little figure at Lenox and Bar Harbour and Newport; she would spend her days with masseuses and dressmakers, and with French and Italian teachers. She could travel, some day but here the thought of Chris crept in, and she was a little hurt at Chris.
"Chris, dear, what is the matter? You are as white as a ghost." It was Hilda's voice gently recalling her. She came to herself with a start, and the hot blood rose to her cheeks with a rush. "Are you very tired after yesterday?" her cousin asked. "I am afraid you got up too early." "Oh, no!" said Chris. "I wasn't early at all. I didn't ride this morning.
"He hasn't been, but he talks of spending a night in town next week." "And you will go with him?" "No, I don't think so. It's too hot." "Then I presume M. Bertrand will?" Chris flushed a little. "I don't suppose so. He is feeling the heat too." She stretched up her hands above her head. "How I wish it would rain!" Aunt Philippa continued her knitting severely in silence.
Their gratitude was deep indeed at this wholly unexpected recovery of a large portion of their herds, and they started the next morning, mounted on some ponies they had picked up for a trifle, to drive them down the country. Chris saw the officer in command as soon as they arrived in the town, and gave him an outline of their adventure, upon which he was warmly congratulated.
Thus, in somewhat disjointed fashion, Chris made answer. "Sit a while and speak to me," replied Martin. "The laddie can play about. Look at him marching along with that great branch of king fern over his shoulder!" "'T is an elfin cheel some ways. Wonnerful eyes he've got. They burn me if I look at'em close," said Chris. She regarded Timothy without sentiment and her eyes were bright and hard.
Chris crawled up with Jack until he reached a spot where he commanded a perfect view of the yard, and explained to him exactly what he was to do. He had already been told what was going to take place.
It fires dull brains; it adds sight to dim eyes; it shows the bookworm how to find out secrets hidden from keener spirits; it lifts a veil from the loved one and lets the lover see more than anybody else can. Be patient with me. I spoke because I love you still with all my heart and soul, Chris; I spoke, because what I feel for you is lifelong, and cannot change.
On the second day after starting they encamped on a slight elevation near Mount Umhlumba, and early next morning they saw a party of some twenty Boers riding in a direction that would bring them within rifle-shot of their camp. All were at once on the alert. "We will not go out and attack them," Chris said to the lads who were running towards their horses.
Ralph say that there was more than a hundred and fifty carts that went with the Lord Cardinal up to Cawood, and that was after the King's grace had broken with him, sir; and he was counted a poor man." Chris asked what was in the carts. "Just his stuff, sir," said Mr. Morris reverentially.
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