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Now, strangely enough, he was reminding her of Mr. Mactavish James, as he used to be in those long conversations when he seemed so kind, and said: "Nellie, ma wee lassie, dis onything ail ye?" and yet left her with a suspicion that he had been asking her all the time out of curiosity and not because he really cared for her. She was dizzied. Whoever was speaking to her, it was not Richard.
Peter Mactavish gave Louis a hearty shake of the hand before proceeding to supply his wants, which were simple and moderate, excepting in the article of tabac, in the use of which he was immoderate, being an inveterate smoker; so that a considerable portion of the snake had to be uncoiled for his benefit. "Fond as ever of smoking, Louis?" said Peter Mactavish, as he handed him the coil.
This indeed was the feeling with which she was regarded by the Highlanders in the neighbourhood, who looked upon Elspat MacTavish, or the Woman of the Tree, as they called her, as the Greeks considered those who were pursued by the Furies, and endured the mental torment consequent on great criminal actions.
Kennedy conducted her spouse, along with Mactavish and our friend the head clerk at Fort Garry, into the parlour. "Harry, my dear fellow, I wish you joy," cried Mr. Grant, as the former grasped his hand. "Lucky dog you are. Where's Kate, eh? Not visible yet, I suppose." "No, not till the parson comes," interrupted Mr. Kennedy, convulsing his left cheek. "Hollo, Charley, where are you?
I was the proudest of my clan, Long, long may I repine; And Donald was the bravest man, And Donald he was mine. Elspat had enjoyed happy days, though her age had sunk into hopeless and inconsolable sorrow and distress. She was once the beautiful and happy wife of Hamish MacTavish, for whom his strength and feats of prowess had gained the title of MacTavish Mhor.
Johnson House, Chiswick, Dec. 18 . Dear Madam, I have the honour to acknowledge your polite communication, to which I promptly reply. 'Tis most gratifying to one in my most arduous position to find that my maternal cares have elicited a responsive affection; and to recognize in the amiable Mrs. Bute Crawley my excellent pupil of former years, the sprightly and accomplished Miss Martha MacTavish.
He might have been excused if he was proud of his boy, for he was a noble little fellow, a "braw chiel," as he was pronounced to be by his grand-aunt, Mistress Tibbie Mactavish, who had presided at his birth, and likely to do no discredit to the name of Murray.
The poor beast has been having fits of giggles ever since a moustache must be very ticklish to digest. Yesterday MacTavish, while engaged in taking his tub in the open, noticed that his bath-water was mysteriously sinking lower and lower. Turning round to investigate the cause of the phenomenon he beheld a gentle milch privily sucking it up behind, his back.
And if being married is only seven and sixpence, I don't see how we are going to spare seven and sixpence out of eleven shillings we've got to eat something, and live somewhere. You can't eat marriage licences, nor use them as shelter. I've seen one once, belonging to Mrs. Mactavish. She kept it sewed inside the lining of her bodice, all among the bits of whalebone that made her stand up straight.
"What for should they not?" "You can't have a typist prancing about with clients at this time of night." "It's airly yet," said Mr. Mactavish James mildly, continuing to turn over the pages of the Law Journal. "We've not had our dinners yet. Though from the way the smell of victuals is roaring up the back stairs we shouldn't be long." "Father, people were looking at them.
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