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Updated: May 29, 2025
Shaw's conquest of one member of the force opposing him was scarcely the result of bravery; on the other hand Lord Cecil's dash into the enemy's country was the very acme of intrepidity. Shaw had victory fairly thrust upon him; Lord Bazelhurst had a thousand obstacles to overcome before he could even so much as stand face to face with the enemy.
Bazelhurst was utterly lost in the folds of a gray tweed, while the count was obliged to roll up the sleeves and legs of a frock suit which fitted Shaw rather too snugly. The duke, larger than the others, was passably fair in an old swallow-tail coat and brown trousers. They were clean, but there was a strong odor of arnica about them. Each wore, besides, an uncertain, sheepish smile.
I'm mounted. Beastly annoying. I say, would you mind tossing it up to me?" "I wouldn't touch it for ten dollars. By the way, I'll just read this note of yours." Lord Bazelhurst nervously watched him as he read; his heart lightened perceptibly as he saw a good-humored smile struggle to the tall young man's face.
"Confounded nuisance, getting wet after all, though. Lord Bazelhurst wants war, does he? That log down there is the dividing line in our river, eh? And I have to stay on this side of it. By George, he's a mean-spirited person. And it's his wife's land, too. I wonder what she's like. It's a pity a fellow can't have a quiet, decent summer up here in the hills.
Deuce take it, Bazelhurst, if she's running away from us, you don't imagine she'd be such a silly fool as to stand in the road and wait for us. If she heard us she'd hide among the trees." "But she's had an hour's start of us." "Where ees she coming to?" asked the count, with an anxious glance upward just in time to catch a skirmishing raindrop with his eye. "That's just it.
Then, without a sign of recognition, Shaw turned and rode rapidly away. "He rides like a gentleman," commented Miss Drake, after reflection. "Indian blood in him," remarked her companion. "Let us go home," said she, whirling her horse like a flash. The duke had some difficulty in keeping abreast of her during the ride and he lost sight of her altogether after they dismounted at Bazelhurst Villa.
This narrative has quite as much to do with the Bazelhurst side of the controversy as it has with Shaw's. It is therefore but fair that the heroic invasion by Lord Cecil should receive equal consideration from the historian.
"Who are these men?" demanded Lady Bazelhurst, as they came up to the fast-breathing young Englishwoman. "Don't bother me, please. We must get him to bed at once. He'll have pneumonia," replied Penelope. Both men were dripping wet and the one in the middle limped painfully, probably because both eyes were swollen tight and his nose was bleeding.
I don't care what you and Cecil think about it, I consider it despicable. Thank God, Cecil was not really to blame. It is about the only thing I can say to my brother's credit." Lady Bazelhurst was staring at her young-sister-in-law with wide eyes. It was the first time in all her petted, vain life that any one had called her to account.
What odds if Lord Bazelhurst happened to be a middle-aged, addle-pated ass? So much the better. Thomas's. That was two years ago. With exquisite irony, Lady Bazelhurst decided to have a country-place in America. Her agents discovered a glorious section of woodland in the Adirondacks, teeming with trout streams, game haunts, unparalleled scenery; her ladyship instructed them to buy without delay.
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