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Updated: May 27, 2025
"You don't seem too sure of it, Carstairs," Cumshaw remarked, with a sidelong glance at Moira. "No more I am," I told him. "I don't like our chances either." "But," he protested with a puzzled indrawing of his eyebrows, "as far as we're concerned it's as easy as falling off a log." "Just as easy," I agreed, "providing our friends the enemy don't interfere.
"It would do Carstairs all the good in the world," said the Doctor; "and I do not see why you should not have a pleasant visit and earn twenty-five pounds at the same time." "It is quite out of the question." "I suppose you would not like to leave Mrs. Peacocke," said the Doctor. "Either to leave her or to take her! To go myself under any circumstances would be altogether out of the question.
It relates to the death of Rev. Carstairs Douglas, LL.D., of the English Presbyterian Mission at Amoy. He was the senior member of that Mission, having arrived at Amoy, July, 1855, twenty-two years ago. "Dr. Douglas, two weeks ago to-day, was in apparent good health. On that day he made calls on several members of the foreign community.
And it may be it's probably the case that in some moment of confidence, Michael let out his secret to these two, and that when he was dead they decided to make more inquiries into it possibly to blackmail the man who had stepped in, and whom they most likely believed to be the genuine Sir Gilbert Carstairs.
But when, responding to his excited summons that night, he had sat and listened while Mr. Carstairs unfolded his mad little domestic plot, he had been first utterly amazed and then utterly repelled.
But the others paid no attention to the cannon. They were light of heart and easy of tongue. They chaffed one another in the cool dawn, and cried to the cooks for breakfast, which was soon brought to them, hot and plentiful. "I suppose it's forward again," said Carstairs between drinks of coffee. "I fancy you're right," said Wharton.
They were now standing on the middle of the lawn, and Mary had assumed a look which intended to signify that she expected him to go. He knew the place well enough to get his own horse, or to order the groom to get it for him. But instead of that, he stood his ground, and now declared his purpose. "To see me, Lord Carstairs!" "Yes, Miss Wortle.
Indeed she did not really suspect the visitor, who was one too ingenuous in his nature to preconcert so subtle and so wicked a scheme. The visitor, of course, had been Lord Carstairs. "Was he here long?" asked Mrs. Wortle anxiously. "Two or three hours, mamma. He rode over from Buttercup where he is staying, for a cricket match, and of course I got him some lunch."
But this time it was only nominal. He's pretty fond of doing it himself, Smith is. Well, as soon as I got down this morning, he called me in and showed me the Daily. You've seen it, I suppose? Of course, we were struck with the way our story had caught on, and particularly with the postscript about Elbert Carstairs and the mystery idea.
Still it's absurd to cite the opinion of a little child in a matter like this." "It depends upon what you call a little child, doesn't it? Miss Carstairs is nineteen years old." Peter straightened in his chair with a jerk, and stared at him as though one or the other had suddenly gone mad. "Nineteen! Why, I thought she was twelve." "So did I."
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