United States or Côte d'Ivoire ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He sat down and listened, though often only with his outward ears, to her plan, by which Captain Rothesay might be saved from his difficulty. "It is a merely nominal thing; I would do it myself, but a man's name would be more useful than a woman's. Yours will. My son Harold will at once perform such a trifling act of kindness for his mother's friend." "Of course of course.
You know her, Miss Rothesay, though you know not half that she is, and ever was to me. But you do know what it is to have a beloved mother." "Yes." Infidel as he was, she could have clung to Harold Gwynne, and called him brother. "Well, after a time of great inward conflict, I decided for her sake.
The sunshine she daily strove to cast around her was falling faintly back upon her own heart. "Good-night, good-night, Allan, and Charlie, and James. We must have another merry walk soon," was her gay adieu as the boys departed, leaving her in the garden-walk, where Mrs. Flora's tall hollyhocks cast a heavy shadow up to the hall-door. "You seem very happy, Miss Rothesay."
Since then I have been what you now see me a very honest, painstaking clergyman; doing good, preaching, certainly not doctrine, but blameless moralities, carrying a civil face to the world, and a heart Oh God! whosoever and whatsoever Thou art, Thou knowest what blackest darkness there is there!" She made no answer. After a few minutes, Mr. Gwynne said, "You must forgive me, Miss Rothesay."
She was called hither and thither all over the house; since on these two days, for the only time in the year, there was at Woodford Cottage a levée of artists, patrons, and connoisseurs. Miss Rothesay was needed everywhere; first in the painting-room, to assist in arranging its various treasures, her taste and tact assisting Mr. Vanbrugh's artistic skill.
But her aunt's soft cold hand glided silently on her drooped head, pressing its throbbings into peace. "I am wae to think," continued the old lady, "that ye are the last of the Rothesay line. The name must end, even should Olive marry." "I shall never marry, Aunt Flora! I shall live as you have done God make my life equally worthy!" "Is it so? I thought it was different.
But it pained them to think that any society seemed sweeter to him than that of his wife and daughter that any place was become dearer to him than his home. One night, when Mrs. Rothesay appeared exhausted, either with weariness or sorrow of heart, Olive persuaded her mother to go to rest, while she herself sat up for her father. "Nay, let some of the servants do that, not you, my child."
"You had better let me help you," said Olive, gently, as, with a firm hand, she took hold of the shivering woman, or girl, for she did not look above seventeen, drew her to a seat, and there disrobed her of her drenched shawl. Not until then did Miss Rothesay pause to consider further about this incognita, arrived in such a singular manner.
But I think, Miss Rothesay, as your mother is not at home, you had better read the letter yourself." She took it. Slowly, silently, she read it through, twice; for the words seemed to dazzle and blaze before her eyes. Then she looked up helplessly. "I I cannot understand." "I thought the doctor wrote plainly enough, and broke the matter cautiously, too," muttered Mr.
Elspie heard it with joy. She answered the summons, and Captain Rothesay walked in. We have never described Olivet father there could not be a better opportunity than now. His tall, active form now subsiding into the muscular fulness of middle age was that of a Hercules of the mountains.
Word Of The Day