United States or Jamaica ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Taking it to the candle he read, deeply bitten into the paper by a hard pencil-point: "At half-past one." There was nothing else no signature; but the handwriting was NOT Mrs. MacSpadden's! Then whose? Was it that of the mysterious figure whom he had just seen? Had he been selected as the medium of some spiritual communication, and, perhaps, a ghostly visitation later on?
MacSpadden was a vivacious acquaintance at St. Kentigern, whom he certainly and not without some satisfaction expected to meet at Glenbogie House. He raised his eyes inquiringly to the porter's. "Ye'll no be rememberin' me. I had a machine in St. Kentigern and drove ye to MacSpadden's ferry often. Far, far too often!
"I thought I heard MacSpadden's voice," said the consul quietly. There was a dead silence. Then Macquoich said hurriedly: "Is he no' in his room in bed asleep, man?" "I really don't know; I didn't inquire," said the consul with a slight yawn. "Good night!" He turned, not without hearing them eagerly whispering again, and entered the passage leading to his own room.
For a few moments he believed that the affair of the flower, combined, perhaps, with the overhearing of Mrs. MacSpadden's mischievous sentence, rankled in the Laird's barbaric soul. But he became presently aware that Kilcraithie's eyes eventually rested upon a quiet-looking blonde near the hostess.
Word Of The Day