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Updated: May 29, 2025
A moment later a horse and rider turned the bend a hundred yards away and came slowly toward him. He started to his feet with an exclamation. The rider was a woman and she was making her way leisurely toward the Bazelhurst lands. "Lady Bazelhurst, I'll bet my hat," thought he with a quiet whistle. "By George, this is awkward. My first trespasser is in petticoats.
It came from the lantern which hung to a stake in the road where the new stone gate-posts were being built by workmen from town. Bazelhurst Villa was a quarter of a mile, through the park, behind her; the forest was ahead. At the gate she stopped between the half-finished stone posts and looked ahead with the first shiver of dismay. Her limbs seemed ready to collapse.
It seems to me that you have confused me with Lord Bazelhurst." "Heaven has given me keener perception, your ladyship. I have seen his lordship." "Ah, may I inquire whether he was particularly rough with afternoon?" "I trust I am too chivalrous to answer that question." "You are quite dry." "Thank you. I deserve the rebuke, all right." "Oh, I mean you haven't been in the river."
I saw her going," she cried, striving between fear and anger. "You've you've turned her out?" gasped Lord Bazelhurst, numbly. "In the night? Good Lord, why why did you let her go?" He turned and rushed toward the door, tears springing to his eyes. He was sobering now and the tears were wrenched from his hurt pride. "How long ago?" "An hour or more. She went of her own accord.
Permit me, gentlemen, to invite you to partake of what we have. What say you?" "Confound you, sir, I I " but his brave effort failed him. He staggered and would have fallen had not the duke caught him from behind. "Thanks, old chap," said Barminster to Shaw. "We will come in for a moment. I say, perhaps you could give us a dry dud or two. Bazelhurst is in a bad way and so is the count.
Shaw says he will have satisfaction for the death of that dog if he has to shoot everybody on the place." "Good Lord!" cried the duke. There was instant excitement. "I believe the wretch will do it, too." "Oh, I say, Bazelhurst, settle with him for the dog," said De Peyton nervously. He looked at his watch and then at his wife. The entire party now was listening to the principal speakers.
In his hand he carried a stick to which was attached a white cloth doubtless a handkerchief. He was hatless and limped perceptibly. The two on the porch watched his approach in amazed silence. "It's Cecil!" whispered Penelope in horror-struck tones. "Good heaven, Randolph, go to him! He is hurt." It was Lord Bazelhurst.
In other words, although neither had seen the other, there was a feud between the owners of the two estates that had all the earmarks of an ancient romance. Lady Bazelhurst was the daughter of a New York millionaire; she was young, beautiful, and arrogant. Nature gave her youth and beauty; marriage gave her the remaining quality. Was she not Lady Bazelhurst?
"The cook, your ladyship. She's fallen downstairs and broken her leg," announced Hodder. He did not betray it, but he must have been tremendously surprised by the sigh of relief that went up on all sides. Lord Bazelhurst went so far as to laugh. "Ha, ha! is that all?" "Oh, dear, I'm so glad!" cried Miss Folsom, impulsively. "I was frightened half to death. It might have been Mr.
With the loyal simplicity of a sister she absolved Cecil of all real blame in the outrage of the morning, attributing everything to the cruelty and envy of the despot who held the purse-strings from which dangled the pliable fortunes of Bazelhurst. The Bazelhursts, one and all ancestors thrown in swung back and forth on the pendulum of her capriciousness.
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