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Updated: June 18, 2025
At first he thought it was mental depression, but when, later, he developed nausea, lack of appetite, and pains in his head, back, and extremities, it occurred to him that he wasn't feeling well physically and that The Dreamerie was to be preferred to his rough pine shanty in the woods, even though in the latter he had sanctuary from the female members of his family.
However, it Hoes not enter into the matter at all in so far as my decision to quit The Dreamerie is concerned. I'm through! Listen, Nan. I could win my father to you win him wholeheartedly and without reservation if I should inform him that my mother asked you to come back to Port Agnew.
Overhead the wild geese flew in long wedges, honking, into the North, and The Laird remembered how Donald, as a boy, used to shoot at them with a rifle as they passed over The Dreamerie. Their honking wakened echoes in his heart.
Thanks to you, you fox!" he added. "Bless my wicked heart! I'm glad you've gone and that I'm out of it so easy," the general manager soliloquized, as the door closed behind The Laird. He reached for the telephone and called Mrs. McKaye at The Dreamerie. "Your husband is on his way home, Mrs. McKaye," he advised her.
At any rate, it's up to Dan whether Donald figures in the case or not, and Dan will die before he'll betray the confidence." "That's comforting," The Laird replied. "Will you be good enough to drive me home to The Dreamerie, Andrew?" At The Dreamerie, old Hector discovered that his son had left the house early in the afternoon, saying he would not be home for dinner.
At noon, Dirty Dan awoke with the light of reason and belligerency in his eyes, whereupon The Laird questioned him, and developed a stubborn reticence which comforted the former to such a degree that he decided to follow his son home to The Dreamerie. A week elapsed before Hector McKaye would permit his son to return to his duties.
Get that boy started once, and he'll hark back to his paternal ancestors; and if The Laird has ever told you the history of that old claymore that hangs on the wall in The Dreamerie, you know that the favorite outdoor sports of the McKaye tribe were fighting and foot-racing with the other fellow in front." "The Laird is mild enough," she defended. "Yes, he is.
Bring it here and we'll all go home to The Dreamerie yes, and tell Daney to come up and help me empty a bottle to to to my additional family. He'll bring his wife, of course, but then we must endure the bitter with the sweet. Good old file, Daney. None better." Donald put on his cap and departed. As the front gate closed behind him Hector McKaye sprang up and hurried out of the house after him.
Following his parting with Nan Brent on Saturday night, Donald McKaye went directly to the mill office, in front of which his car was parked, entered the car, and drove home to The Dreamerie, quite oblivious of the fact that he was not the only man in Port Agnew who had spent an interesting and exciting evening.
Elizabeth nodded calmly. She had gone too far now to develop weakness when an assumption of invincible strength might yet win the day. "I couldn't receive such a peculiar sister-in-law," Jane murmured, evidently close to tears. "Surely, you would not expect us to take such a woman to our hearts, Donald dear?" "I did not build The Dreamerie for yon lass," The Laird burst forth passionately.
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