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Bingham, can you tell me where I am? I have quite lost my reckoning in the mist." He started. How did this mysterious young lady in a boat know his name? "You are at the Red Rocks; there is the bell, that grey thing, Miss Miss " "Beatrice Granger," she put in hastily. "My father is the clergyman of Bryngelly. I saw you when you and Lady Honoria Bingham looked into the school yesterday.
Thus there was in Bryngelly a little girl of ten, a very clever and highly excitable child, Jane Llewellyn by name, born of parents of strict Calvinistic views. As it chanced, some months before the opening of this story, a tub thumper, of high renown and considerable rude oratorical force, visited the place, and treated his hearers to a lively discourse on the horrors of Hell.
That is to say it purported to be such an epistle as any young lady might have written to a gentleman friend. It began, "Dear Mr. Bingham," and ended, "Yours sincerely, Beatrice Granger," was filled with chit-chat, and expressed hopes that he would be able to come down to Bryngelly again later in the summer, when they would go canoeing.
Bingham was in the house. She could well imagine the dismay, not to say the fury, of her money-loving old father if he were to hear that she had refused actually refused Owen Davies of Bryngelly Castle, and all his wealth. Then there was Elizabeth to be reckoned with. Elizabeth would assuredly make her life a burden to her. Beatrice little guessed that nothing would suit her sister's book better.
Beatrice dropped poetry, and came down to facts in a way that was very commendable. "There is a squall coming up, Mr. Bingham," she said; "you must paddle as hard as you can. I do not think we are more than two miles from Bryngelly, and if we are lucky we may get there before the weather breaks." "Yes, if we are lucky," he said grimly, as he bent himself to the work.
Anything sinking in those waters would be carried far away, and never come back to the shore of Wales. She turned her head and looked at Bryngelly, and the long familiar stretch of cliff. How fair it seemed, bathed in the quiet lights of summer afternoon.
"But the question is where to paddle to it's so dark. Had not we better run for the shore?" "We are in the middle of the bay now," she answered, "and almost as far from the nearest land as we are from Bryngelly, besides it is all rocks. No, you must go straight on. You will see the Poise light beyond Coed presently.
No, the sun would set in the east before such a thing happened. The plan was to prevent the occasion from arising. The hungry light died on Elizabeth's face, and she turned to enter the sick room when suddenly she met her father coming out. "Who was that at the front?" he asked, carefully closing the door. "Mr. Davies of Bryngelly Castle, father." "And what did Mr.
As they sat at the meal, through a gap in the fir trees they saw that the great majority of the population of Bryngelly was streaming up towards the scene of the sale, some to agitate, and some to see the fun. "It is pretty well time to be off," said Geoffrey. "Are you coming, Mr. Granger?" "Well," answered the old gentleman, "I wished to do so, but Elizabeth thinks that I had better keep away.
Honoria wished to go and stay with her brother, Lord Garsington, and, for a wonder, to take Effie with her. He did not like it, but he supposed that he should have to consent. One thing was, he would not go. He could not endure Garsington, Dunstan, and all their set. Should he run down to Bryngelly?
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