Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 31, 2025
Now you know her history, she would be happy enough if her grandmother would let her alone; but the silly old woman thinks the girl is under a spell, and that Thelma is the witch that works it;" and the old farmer laughed. "There's a grain of truth in the notion too, but not in the way she has of looking at it." "All women are witches!" said Duprez. "Britta is a little witch herself!"
The only comfort he could suggest to the disconsolate Britta was, that at that time of year it was very probable there would be no steamer running to Christiansund or Bergen, and in that case Thelma would be unable to leave England, and would, therefore, be overtaken by Sir Philip at Hull.
"Thelma my wife gone! Why should she go?" And he stared fixedly at Neville, who laid one hand soothingly on his arm. "Perhaps she is with friends," he suggested. "She may be at Lady Winsleigh's or Mrs. Lorimer's." "No, no!" interrupted Morris. "Britta, who stayed up all night for her, has since been to every house that my lady visits and no one has seen or heard of her!"
Old Gueldmar prepared to rush after her and force her to retract her evil speech, Errington was furious, and Britta cried bitterly. The lazy Lorimer was excited and annoyed. "Fetch her back," he said, "and I'll dance upon her!" But Thelma stood where the old woman had left her she smiled faintly, but she was very pale.
Britta shook her head. "The tide is against them no! we shall be there first. But," and she looked wistfully at Pierre, "my grandmother said Mr. Dyceworthy had sworn to ruin the Froeken. What did she mean, do you think?" Duprez did not answer, he made a strange grimace and shrugged his shoulders. Then he seized the whip and lashed the pony.
"Then," went on Gueldmar, "when my girl came back the last time from France, Britta chanced to see her, and, strangely enough," here he winked shrewdly "took a fancy to her face, odd, wasn't it? However, nothing would suit her but that she must be Thelma's handmaiden, and here she is.
"Who are you that go prowling about at this hour of the night?" said the master gruffly. The two children did not answer immediately, but first removed their packs. Then they walked up to the man and stretched forth their tiny hands in greeting. "We are Anna and Britta Maja from the Engärd," said the elder, "and we were going to ask for a night's lodging."
It is something in the hair of the Bollyvards, I suppose! And the caffy life excites my nerves." "Then you shouldn't go there," said Britta gravely, though her eyes twinkled with repressed fun. "It can't be good for you. And, oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Briggs, to think that you are ever wicked!" And she laughed. "It's not for long," explained Briggs, with a comically satisfied, yet penitent, look.
And, thanks to your teaching in mine early days," she paused and looked keenly at him, but he appeared to see no meaning in her allusion, "I know the English tongue, of which we hear far too much, too often! There is nothing Britta has said that I do not understand. But I know well it is not the girl herself that speaks it is a demon in her, and that demon shall be cast forth before I die!
Our people were always a' visitin' each other, and yet our meetings were, as the poet says, 'few and far between." Britta nodded indifferently, and perceiving a particularly ripe gooseberry on one of the bushes close to her, gathered it quickly and popped it between her rosy lips.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking