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Mrs Courthope, the housekeeper at Lossie House, was a good woman, who did not stand upon her dignities, as small rulers are apt to do, but cultivated friendly relations with the people of the Sea Town.
I imagine that, to him who has overcome it, the world, in very virtue of his victory, will show itself the lovely and pure thing it was created for he will see through the cloudy envelope of his battle to the living kernel below. The cliffs, the rocks, the sands, the dune, the town, the very clouds that hung over the hill above Lossie House, were in strange fashion transfigured.
So she had to content herself with bringing the two girls together, and when Lizzy was a little rested and had had a glass of wine, went to look for Florimel. She found her in a little room adjoining the library, which, on her first coming to Lossie, she had chosen for her waking nest.
I would have had you receive the bitter truth from lips you loved, but you drove those lips of honour from you, and now there are left to utter it only the lips you hate, yet the truth you shall receive: it may help to save you from weakness, arrogance, and falsehood. Sister, your mother was never Lady Lossie." "You lie. I know you lie.
Not therefore, however, would he waive the exercise of the inborn right of teaching, and anybody might come to the house and see the master on Sunday evenings. As to whether people went to church or stayed away, he never troubled himself in the least; and no more did the schoolmaster. The chapel had not been long finished when he had an organ built in it. Lady Lossie played upon it.
The distance was greater than to Duff Harbour; the roads were worse; the north wind, rising as they went, blew against them as they returned, increasing to a violent gale; and it was late before they reached Lossie House. When Malcolm entered, he found the marquis alone. "Is Morrison here at last?" he cried in a feeble, irritated voice. "Yes, my lord." "What the devil kept you so long?
He was not one to complain of mere external inequalities: if he was inclined to envy Lord Meikleham, it was not because of his social position: he was even now philosopher enough to know that the life of a fisherman was preferable to that of such a marquis as Lord Lossie that the desirableness of a life is to be measured by the amount of interest and not by the amount of ease in it, for the more ease the more unrest; neither was he inclined to complain of the gulf that yawned so wide between him and Lady Florimel; the difficulty lay deeper: such a gulf existing, by a social law only less inexorable than a natural one, why should he feel the rent invading his individual being? in a word, though Malcolm put it in no such definite shape: Why should a fisher lad find himself in danger of falling in love with the daughter of a marquis?
When Liftore mounted to accompany Lady Lossie, it took all the pluck that belonged to his high breed to enable him to smile and smile, with twenty counsellors in different parts of his body feelingly persuading him that he was at least a liar. As they rode, Florimel asked him how he came to be at the studio that morning.
"Now I want to tell you, both of you, that this yacht belongs to the Marchioness of Lossie, and I have the command of her, and I must have everything on board shipshape, and as clean, Travers, as if she were a seventy-four. If there's the head of a pail visible, it must be as bright as silver. And everything must be at the word. The least hesitation, and I have done with that man.
A feow minutes winna maitter muckle to the bailie bodies." There was something in Malcolm's address that pleased Lord Lossie the mingling of respect and humour, probably the frankness and composure, perhaps. He was not self conscious enough to be shy, and was so free from design of any sort that he doubted the good will of no one. "What's your name?" asked the marquis abruptly.
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