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Updated: May 26, 2025
He had a small property of about four hundred acres, on the marches, as they say, or boarders of the Earl of Birkenhead's lands. Here he lived almost alone, and in a very quiet way. There was not even a village near him, and there were few persons of his own position in life, because his little place was almost embedded, if I may say so, in Lord Birkenhead's country, which is pastoral.
Proud pale people seldom look when they first meet a total stranger still more a long-lost cousin as if they had some difficulty in refraining from mirth. Miss Birkenhead's face was as fixed and almost as pure as marble, but I read sympathy and amusement and kindness in her eyes. Presently the door opened again, and an elderly man in the dress of a priest came in. To him I was presented
Upon this Lord Birkenhead's countenance changed somewhat, and, with a casual remark, he put the question by. After dinner, when the ladies had left the men to their wine, Lord Birkenhead showed some curiosity as to "the ecclesiastic," and learned that he had seemed somewhat shy and stiff, yet had the air of a man just about to enter into conversation.
"I know the beast," said Barton, without reflecting. Mr. Wright looked at him in amazement and horror. "The beast!" A son of Lord Birkenhead's called "The beast!" "To return to our case, Dr. Barton," he went on severely, with some stress laid on the doctor. "Mr.
"Will any one take any more wine?" asked Lord Birkenhead, in tones of deep emotion. "No? Then suppose we join the ladies." "Well," said one of the ladies, the Girton girl, when the squire had finished the prelate's narrative, "I don't call that much of a story. What was Lady Birkenhead's confession about? That's what one really wants to know."
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