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Updated: April 30, 2025
Not that I am anxious about his getting the estate of Ellangowan, though such a subject is held in absolute indifference nowhere except in a novel; but certainly Henry Bertram, heir of Ellangowan, whether possessed of the property of his ancestors or not, is a very different person from Vanbeest Brown, the son of nobody at all. His fathers, Mr.
And 'tis but what he hath from his father. Master Calverley is a squire of the Queen's Grace, and one of Sir John de Wycliffe's following." "Who is Sir John de Wycliffe?" said Maude. "One of the Lord Pope his Cardinals," laughed Bertram. "Get thee to thine herbs and pans, little Maude; and burden not thy head with Sir John de Wycliffe nor John de Northampton neither. Fare thee well, my maid.
He had not forgotten Billy's surprised: "Why, Bertram, don't you like Mary Jane?" and he did not like to call forth a repetition of it. Abruptly, therefore, he changed the subject. "By the way, what did you do to Pete to-day?" he asked laughingly. "He came home in a seventh heaven of happiness babbling of what an angel straight from the sky Miss Billy was.
Look ye, Dominie, if you speak another word till I give you leave, I will read three sentences out of the Black Acts, whisk my cane round my head three times, undo all the magic of this night's work, and conjure Harry Bertram back again into Vanbeest Brown. 'Honoured and worthy sir, groaned out the Dominie, 'I humbly crave pardon; it was but verbum volans.
Bertram, who was unused to such a position of comparative danger, and whose head was not capable of standing the sight of a precipice descending from his very feet into a roaring stream, began to feel giddy, and would have given the world to return; but he felt ashamed to confess his weakness, and endeavoured, by gazing earnestly into the bank at his side, to steady himself, hoping that the nature of the track would improve as they advanced.
"But, sweetheart, you don't know. Perhaps I could. Won't you tell me about it?" Billy looked distressed. "I can't, dear truly. You see, it isn't quite mine to tell." "Not yours!" "Not entirely." "But it makes you feel bad?" "Yes very." "Then can't I know that part?" "Oh, no no, indeed, no! You see it wouldn't be fair to the other." Bertram stared a little. Then his mouth set into stern lines.
Bertram alone excepted, whose tortoise-shell snuff-box was weekly filled with the best rappee at the old prices, because the maid brought it to the shop with Mrs. Bertram's respects to her cousin Mr. Quid.
At last Bertram spoke again: "Frida," he said, with a trembling quiver, "I didn't sleep last night. I was thinking this thing over this question of our relations." "Nor did I," Frida answered, thrilling through, responsive. "I was thinking the same thing.... And, Bertram, 'twas the happiest night I ever remember."
Besides, don't you remember? there are all my people to be entertained. They must be taken to places, and given motor rides and picnics. You told me last week that you'd love to help me; but, of course, if you don't want to " "But I do want to," cried Bertram, heartily, a gleam of the old cheerfulness springing to his eyes. "I'm dying to!" The girl looked up with quick distrust.
So the change was made, and general happiness all round had resulted so much so, that Bertram had said to Billy, when he heard of it: "It looks as if this was a case where your cake is frosted on both sides." "Nonsense! This isn't frosting it's business," Billy had laughed. "And the new pupils you have found for Miss Alice they're business, too, I suppose?"
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