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Both her father and herself realised the nature of the impending situation, but neither of them spoke of it. Ah! there was the sound of wheels upon the gravel. So it had come. Ida felt like death itself. Her pulse sunk and fluttered; her vital forces seemed to cease their work. Another two minutes went by, then the door opened and the parlour-maid came in. "Mr. Cossey, if you please, sir."
It soon, however, became evident that Cossey had only got the outside portion of the charge of No. 7 that is to say, he had been struck by about a hundred pellets of the three or four hundred which would go to the ordinary ounce and an eighth. Had he received the whole charge he must, at that distance, have been instantly killed.
Even as she did so George drove his fat pony up to the door, and getting down gave a letter to the landlady, with particular instructions that it was to be delivered into Mr. Cossey's own hands. As she passed Belle saw that it was addressed in the Squire's handwriting. When it was delivered to him Edward Cossey opened it with eagerness.
If you think yourself aggrieved it does not take long to cross the water, Mr. Cossey." Edward Cossey looked puzzled. "Do you mean to suggest that I should fight a duel with you?" he said. "To challenge a man to fight a duel," answered the Colonel with deliberation, "is an indictable offence, therefore I make no such challenge.
She waved them back imperiously, and began speaking before any one could interfere, taking up her speech where she had broken it off when she caught sight of the Colonel and George coming up the steps. "I can no longer hesitate," she said, "but once and for all I decline to marry you, Mr. Cossey, and I hope that I shall never see your face again."
"Well, though as I said just now, the mortgagees of an estate as a body are merely a business corporation, and look at things from a business point of view only, you must remember that they are composed of individuals, and that individuals can be influenced if they can be got at. For instance, Cossey and Son are an abstraction and harshly disposed in their abstract capacity, but Mr.
Accordingly they went upstairs to a large and luxurious bedroom on the first floor, where the stricken man lay upon a patent couch. When Mr. Quest and Edward Cossey entered, a lady, old Mr. Cossey's eldest daughter, put down a paper out of which she had been reading the money article aloud, and, rising, informed her father that Mr. Quest had come. "Mr.
"Edward Cossey has taken a wonderful turn for the better. They say that he will certainly recover." "Oh," she answered, colouring a little, "and now I have a piece of news for you, Colonel Quaritch. My engagement with Mr. Edward Cossey is at an end. I shall not marry him." "Are you sure?" said Harold with a gasp. "Quite sure.
"I bet you a pair of gloves that Colonel Quaritch will shoot more driven partridges than you do." "Done," said Edward Cossey sharply. "Now, do you hear that, Colonel Quaritch?" went on Ida. "I have bet Mr. Cossey a pair of gloves that you will kill more partridges this afternoon than he will, so I hope you won't make me lose them." "Goodness gracious," said the Colonel, in much alarm.
Its length was considerable, but in substance it announced his acceptance of the arrangement proposed by Mr. Edward Cossey, and requested that he would prepare the necessary deeds to be submitted to his lawyers. Mr. Quest read the letter absently enough, and threw it down with a little laugh. "What a queer world it is," he said to himself, "and what a ludicrous side there is to it all.
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