Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 25, 2025
"You and your cousins from America!" "What about my cousins from America?" "Yes, what about them? That's just what Lord Belpher and me have been asking ourselves." "I don't know wot you're talking about." "You soon will, young blighted Albert! Who sneaked that American fellow into the 'ouse to meet Lady Maud?" "I never!" "Think I didn't see through your little game? Why, I knew from the first."
Lord Belpher, leaning against the wall and trying to decide whether his right or left foot hurt him the more excruciatingly, became aware that a curate was standing before him, regarding him through a pair of gold-rimmed pince-nez with a disapproving and hostile expression. Lord Belpher returned his gaze. Neither was favourably impressed by the other.
At about the time that George Bevan's train was leaving Waterloo, a grey racing car drew up with a grinding of brakes and a sputter of gravel in front of the main entrance of Belpher Castle. The slim and elegant young man at the wheel removed his goggles, pulled out a watch, and addressed the stout young man at his side. "Two hours and eighteen minutes from Hyde Park Corner, Boots.
And, what was satisfactory, the statement could be checked by application to Keggs, the butler. And yet there was a lingering doubt. However, there seemed nothing to be gained by continuing the conversation. "I see," he said at last. "Well, bring that champagne to the library as quick as you can." "Very good, sir." Lord Belpher remained where he stood, brooding.
Reggie's manner was not soothing, and on this particular morning his choice of a topic had been unusually irritating. Lord Belpher told himself that he could not understand Reggie.
Lady Caroline, who was no devotee of the royal and ancient game, interrupted the recital. "Never mind what you did this morning. What did you do yesterday afternoon?" "Yes," said Lord Belpher. "Where were you yesterday afternoon?" Maud's gaze was the gaze of a young child who has never even attempted to put anything over in all its little life. "Whatever do you mean?"
When Maud, reaching the cross-roads, suddenly swung down the one to the left, Lord Belpher was for the moment completely baffled. Reason reasserted its way the next minute, telling him that this was but a ruse. Whether or no she had caught sight of him, there was no doubt that Maud intended to shake off any possible pursuit by taking this speciously innocent turning and making a detour.
Whoever wishes for a cold and technical catalogue of the stuffs which went to make up the picture that deprived George of speech may consult the files of the Belpher Intelligencer and Farmers' Guide, and read the report of the editor's wife, who "does" the dresses for the Intelligencer under the pen-name of "Birdie Bright-Eye". As far as George was concerned, the thing was made of rose-leaves and moon-beams.
Belpher, in addition to all the advantages of the usual village, has a quiet charm all its own, due to the fact that it has seen better days. In a sense, it is a ruin, and ruins are always soothing to the bruised soul. Ten years before, Belpher had been a flourishing centre of the South of England oyster trade.
He was just in time to see Maud disappearing round the corner of the drive. Lord Belpher had never belonged to that virile class of the community which considers running a pleasure and a pastime.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking