Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 19, 2025
News arrived from Dunore this spring, which Linda fancied would sorely discompose Andy. The Wynns kept up a sort of correspondence with the old tenantry, who loved them much. In an April letter it was stated that the pretty blue-eyed Mary Collins, Andy's betrothed, had been base enough to marry another, last Shrovetide. But the detaching process had gone on at this side of the Atlantic also.
'Troth, an' I may as well let ye have the benefit of yer heels, ye mortal spalpeen, said Andy, reining himself in. 'An' it's the father of a good thrashin' I could give ye for yer impidence. To think o' Miss Linda, that's one of the ould auncient Wynns of Dunore since Adam was a boy!
The heroine, Lady Clancare, a novelist and politician, a beauty and a wit, is obviously intended for Lady Morgan herself, while Lady Abercorn figures again under the title of Lady Dunore. But the most striking of all the character-portraits is Counsellor Con Crawley, who was sketched from Lady Morgan's old enemy, John Wilson Croker.
Bunting. It's no bondage to eat one's dinner afterwards; and he'll be twice as comfortable. 'That's thrue, said Andy; 'I never yet could ate my bit in presence of the quality; so that's one right I'd forgive; and as for me the likes of me bein' as good blood as the Masther Wynns of Dunore, I'd as soon think the Yankee was himself. With sovereign contempt, Andy turned his back on Mr.
Wynn the elder was slightly mystified; for the topics of promotion by purchase in the army, and the emigration of half-pay officers, seemed to have no leading reference to the above world-famed story. The dear old gentleman! he did the honours of his small wooden cottage at Cedar Creek as finely as if it had been his own ancestral mansion of Dunore.
'Lave, indeed! exclaimed the republican-minded Mrs. M'Donagh; 'it's I that wud be afther askin lave in a free counthry! Why, we've no masthers nor missusses here at all. 'Hut, woman, but they're my fostherers the young Mr. Wynns of Dunore. Great had been that name among the peasantry once; and even yet it had not lost its prestige with the transplanted Pat M'Donagh.
Robert Wynn returned home to Dunore, having gained nothing by his London trip but a little of that bitter though salutary tonic called experience. His resolve did not waver nay, it became his day-dream; but manifold obstacles occurred in the attempt to realize it. Family pride was one of the most stubborn; and not until all hope from home resources was at an end, did his father give consent.
The corner of the sketch bore the lightly pencilled letters, 'Dunore. And now he fancied that twelve months' travel had completed the cure, and that he had quite conquered his affection for one who did not return it. He was prepared to settle down in common life again, with the second scar on his heart just healed.
They were just ready to fall upon the centre, when king William having passed with the left wing, composed of the Danish, Dutch, and Inniskilling horse, advanced to attack them on the right. They were struck with such a panic at his appearance that they made a sudden halt, and then facing about, retreated to the village of Dunore.
All went evenly until the page was opened, the bit of silver paper lifted off, and Dunore was before her. What a start colour exclamation! Her beloved Irish home, with its green low hills, and its purple sea-line afar. 'Oh, Mr. Holt, I am so glad that you went to see Dunore! Her eyes were full of tears as she gazed. 'Are you?
Word Of The Day
Others Looking