United States or Philippines ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
She came into the room a little late, and her entrance created almost a sensation. Duncombe only knew that she wore a black gown and looked divine. Lady Runton murmured "Paquin" with a sigh and frown. "These girls might at least leave us black," she murmured to her neighbor. "What pearls!" Duncombe stepped forward to meet her. He could not keep the admiration from his eyes.
He had apparently missed the gate, which at this point was only a small hand one, and in clambering over the fence he had broken the topmost strand of wire. He had blundered into a bed of wallflowers, which were all crushed and downtrodden, and snapped off a rose tree in the middle. Below the window were distinct traces of footmarks. Lord Runton, who held the torch, was becoming excited.
"There is so little," she murmured, "which I can tell you." "We shall see," he answered. "In the first place, Lord Runton has been here. He is one of my oldest friends, and a very good fellow. He came to tell me that Von Rothe had been robbed in his house of some valuable papers. He came partly to ask my advice. All the time I was sitting opposite to him, with those papers in my pocket."
"Phyllis Poynton and Miss Fielding are two very different persons," Duncombe declared. "That may be so," Pelham said, "although I find it hard to believe that God ever gave to two women voices so exactly similar. Yet if you are assured that this is so, why not be altogether frank with me?" "What have you to complain of?" Duncombe asked. "Something has happened at Runton Place, in which Mr.
"Supposing I grant everything that you say, Andrew," Duncombe answered. "Supposing I admit that strange things have happened with regard to Mr. Fielding and his daughter which have resulted in their leaving Runton Place even that she was there in the lane this afternoon how does all this concern you?"
The others hesitated for a moment whether to follow him or not. Spencer was the first to rise to his feet and moved towards the door. Lord Runton and Pelham followed a moment or two later. Outside in the hall the house was perfectly silent. Duncombe reached the library door just in time to find himself confronted by half a dozen of the men and women servants coming from the back of the house.
Between ourselves, George, something seems to be going on at the Foreign Office which I don't understand." "What do you mean?" Duncombe asked. "There has been no hint at any sort of trouble in the papers." "That's just what I don't understand," Lord Runton continued.
I'll introduce you." A groom had thrown open the gate of the field across which they were looking, and Lady Runton from the box seat of a small mail phaeton waved her whip. She drove straight across the furrows towards them a little recklessly, the groom running behind. By her side was a girl with coils of deep brown hair, and a thick black veil worn after the fashion of the travelling American.
"I told you that she kept her veil down," Duncombe repeated. "Her hair was a sort of deep, red-brown what I could see of it. But, seriously, Andrew, what is the use of discussing her? One might as soon expect one of my housemaids to change into Phyllis Poynton, as to discover her with a brand-new father, a brand-new name, and a guest at Runton Place." Andrew was silent for a moment.
But will you tell me something?" "Of course!" "Why do you carry the picture of that girl about with you?" He leaned towards her, and at that moment Lady Runton rose from her place. "In the winter garden afterwards," he whispered. "You have asked me the very question that I wanted to answer!" There was something strange about Andrew's manner as he moved up to Duncombe's side.
Word Of The Day