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Updated: June 6, 2025


Both lads laughed. "And Graeme feels a motherly interest in all Scottish laddies, however unworthy they may be," said Harry. And so they rambled on about many things, till they came to the gate of Mr Elphinstone's garden, beyond which Arthur and Will were loitering. "How pretty the garden is!" said Rose. "Look, Graeme, at that little girl in the window.

So saying, the professor conducted his young Russian friend to Lady Elphinstone's boudoir, where, having craved permission to enter, he forthwith introduced his protegee to his hostess, and briefly recapitulated the story of wrong to which he had so recently listened. Lady Olivia listened with deep sympathy to the story, and at its conclusion, said

"These are Miss Elphinstone's own flowers. I wouldna just like to meddle with them. But you can ask her yourself." Rose turned. The pretty young lady of the pony-carriage, was standing beside her. Rose's confusion was too deep for words.

Elphinstone, but Hildebrand had been docile, and altogether life was quite smooth and pleasant until Mrs. Elphinstone's brother came for a visit. Peter Rayner was that brother. There is a type of man who makes love with the secrecy and sheepish reserve of a cowboy shooting up a Wild West saloon. To this class Peter belonged.

"I never thought of that," said Harry, looking foolish. "And you thought the new partner fancied himself too big a man to know you," said Charlie. "And that's the reason you took umbrage at him, and told your sister he was ahem, Harry?" Miss Elphinstone's laugh recalled Charlie to a sense of propriety, and Harry looked more foolish than ever.

There was a little mound before it, upon which and in the borders close by grew a great many flowers. Not rare flowers, such as she had just been admiring, but flowers sweet and common, pansies and thyme, sweet peas and mignonette. It was Miss Elphinstone's own bower, the gardener said, and these were her favourite flowers. Rose bent over a pale little blossom near the path

I bet Sir Elphinstone's cussin'." "And I'll bet Miss Sally don't care how hard he cusses. She could do a bit o' that too in her time, by all accounts." "Ay, a monstrous free-spoken lady always. Swearin' don't sit well upon womankind, I allow not as a rule. But when there's blood, a damn up or down what is it?

His work ends with an exhaustive treatise upon the tribes who form the population of Afghanistan, and a summary of invaluable information respecting the neighbouring countries. Elphinstone's narrative is curious, interesting, and valuable for many reasons, and may be consulted in our own day with advantage. The zeal of the East India Company was indefatigable.

It was simply and frankly said, as one might speak of a matter fully understood and approved of by all concerned. But the words smote on Allan's heart with sharp and sudden pain, and he knew that something had come into his life, since the time when he had listened in complacent silence to Mr Elphinstone's half-expressed ideas, concerning Lilias and her future.

The professor and Mildmay had likewise vanished in an equally mysterious manner; but they calmly and smilingly turned up again by a late train, that same evening, to learn the gratifying news that Lady Elphinstone's return to the safety of her beautiful home had already produced a most beneficial effect upon her health, and that there was now every prospect of an early recovery from the bad effects of the shock that she had so recently sustained.

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