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Updated: May 6, 2025
"Some day I think you must visit Priorsford and get to know Miss Bathgate. Yours, "I forgot to tell you that for some dark reason the Jardines call their cat Sir J.M. Barrie. "I asked why, but got no satisfaction. "'Well, you see, there's Peter, Mhor said vaguely.
As the car moved off, Jock's voice could be heard asking, "And who was Mrs. Wishart?" "Hast any philosophy in thee?" As You Like It. Miss Bella Bathgate was a staunch supporter of the Parish Kirk. She had no use for any other denomination, and no sympathy with any but the Presbyterian form of worship.
"I'll not give it to the Government," said Jean, "but we may count ourselves lucky if they don't thieve it from us. I'm at one with Bella Bathgate when she says, 'I'm no verra sure aboot thae politicians Liberal or Tory. I think she fears that any day they may grab Hillview from her." "Anyway," David persisted, "we might have a car. I learned to drive at Oxford.
I don't know how far one may go with landladies, but I hardly think one could ask them to repaper walls to each stray lodger's liking." Miss Bathgate had not so far shown herself much inclined for conversation.
He came with his great reputation, his membership of Parliament, his twenty thousand a year of income earned by the exercise of his brain, and a judgeship looming in the near future, and as far as they were concerned he came straight out of the little house on the Bathgate Road, now fitly occupied by a retired chemist.
She walked to Bathgate, I suppose, to put them off the scent." "But whatever did she do it for?" asked Joan. "Something must have upset her. It is running away, you know. I wish she had told us about it." "We'd have gone with her," said Nancy. "She must have done it for a lark." "Oh, don't be a fool," said Joan. This was one of the twins' formulæ.
The old Colonel had long since been laid in his grave, and the little house in the Bathgate Road, now in the respectable occupancy of a retired druggist, would have seemed as strange a dwelling-place to the daughters of Herbert Birket, who had prospered exceedingly, as to the children of Mrs. Clinton of Kencote.
"I've sent to Fullers' for some cakes, though I don't myself consider them a patch on the Priorsford cakes, but they will be a change and make it more of an occasion. Mawson can make delicious sandwiches and Bella Bathgate has actually offered to bake some scones. I'll make the room look as smart as possible with flowers." "You've no photographs of relations?
"Awfu' English an' wi' a' the queer daft ways o' gentry. 'Oh, Miss Bathgate, a' the time. They tell me Miss Reston's considered a beauty in London. It's no' ma idea o' beauty a terrible lang neck an' a wee shilpit bit face, an' sic a height! I'm fair feared for ma gasaliers. An' forty if she's a day. But verra pleasant, ye ken.
Their father had been a Colonel in the Indian Army, and had retired to end his days in a little house on the outskirts of Bathgate, desiring nothing more than to read the Times through every morning and find something in it to disagree with, walk so many miles a day, see his son well started in the profession he had chosen, and his daughter well, but not splendidly, married.
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