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Updated: June 21, 2025
Aristocracy had ere now condescended to wealth; earls had married women rich by tallow-importing papas; and no doubt, had these same earls been consulted in Gatty's case, they would have decided that Christie Johnstone, with her real and funded property, was not a villainous match for a green grocer's son, without a rapp;* but Mrs.
Come to think of hit, we could hold a big afternoon parade, with a lot of yippin' around, and git up more excitement than they've had in that sleepy ole burg since the women swarmed down on Gatty's quart shop en wrecked hit." "Well, you and Mr. Potter and Mr. Flinthead just keep out of it," said Adine emphatically. "You would ruin everything."
And on Gatty's return, canvas in hand, she whipped the document behind her, and said archly, "I hae something for ye, a tecket fra a leddy, ye'll no want siller fra this day." "Indeed!" "Ay! indeed, fra a great leddy; it's vara gude o' me to gie ye it; heh! tak it." He did take it, looked stupefied, looked again, sunk into a chair, and glared at it. "Laddy!" said Christie.
"I like Gatty's laughs, they are so merry," said Oscar, "but what are you laughing at?" "Why at Hargrave to be sure, giving warning here, on this desert island." "Who will you go to, Hargrave, if you leave your present mistress? The Duchess of Puddleduck? Lady Ape? or Baroness Shark? Ha! ha! my dear girls, did you ever hear anything so absurd?"
When he was not with his flock, the northern wolves sometimes scattered it; but when the holy father was there with his prayers and his battle-ax, England won the day! This nettled the Scottish king, so he penetrated one day, with a large band, as far as Durham itself, and for a short time blocked the prelate up in his stronghold. This was the period of Mr. Gatty's picture.
With a little trouble she moved some stones, made a channel in the sand, and in a few minutes a rippling stream ran down it, gathering force as it went, and, stopping for neither stick nor stone, dashed upon Sybil, as if animated with Gatty's own spirit of mischief. Up she jumped, her cry of surprise being in chorus with Gatty's shriek of delight.
As they faced each other, with flaming eyes and faces, all self-command gone, about to utter hasty words, and lay up regret, perhaps for all their lives to come, in a moment, as if she had started from the earth, Christie Johnstone stood between them! Gatty's words, and, still more, his hesitation, had made her quick intelligence suspect.
She told him Gatty's case, and he instantly promised to see that artist's pictures, particularly an "awfu' bonny ane;" the hero of which she described as an English minister blessing the bairns with one hand, and giving orders to kill the puir Scoetch with the other. "C'est e'gal," said Christie in Scotch, "it's awfu' bonny." Gatty reached home late; his mother had retired to rest.
Have I not lost my right hand, the sunbeam of my house, my sweet, little, mischievous, pretty, fidgety Gatty," and he raised his eyes reverently to heaven, as if to invoke a blessing on his lost child; and this was Gatty's Father, who had left his court, and had come down purposely with Sir Walter Mayton to consult on the best mode of discovering the lost party, and taking the advice of all those nearly and dearly interested in them.
And then I recalled the parents of those with me; the hearty and oft-expressed wish of Gatty's father, high in honours and public esteem, to accompany us, the tearful farewell of her mother, dear Winny's merry and light-hearted mother, while her father bid her remember, during her long absence, the lessons of goodness and high principle he was always so anxious to inculcate in her.
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