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She stepped to her room to lock the door and stopped a few minutes to arrange the clothing she had discarded when she dressed hurriedly before going to the concert, then, the letters in her hand, she opened Mrs. Jardine's door. A few minutes before, there had been a tap on that same door. "Come in," said Mrs. Jardine, expecting Kate or Jennie Weeks.
"Do people really hang on her hands and kiss them? Shall I want to hang on her hands and kiss them?" "There is no telling what she will do with us," said Lady Jardine. Gregory Jardine's face, however, was not framed to express enthusiasm. It was caustic, cold and delicate. His eyes were as clear and as hard as a sky of frosty morning, and his small, firm lips were hard.
"I chose it, you know." Madame von Marwitz turned startled eyes upon her. "Ah but I did not know. Did you tell me this, Karen?" the eyes of distress now turned to Karen. "Have I forgotten? Was the green hat, the little green hat with the wing, indeed of Lady Jardine's choosing? Have I been so very rude?" "Betty will understand, Tante," said Karen while Mrs.
If this is the sign of George Jardine's blood, it was placed there to pay her father's debt, and set her apart for us." "Now, the sun is shining out, Joanna 'a clear shining after rain, don't you like the Bible words? I know you do. You must have a walk yet. Why, the violets will be out in another ten days. Hand me my garden bonnet, and we will have a turn in the garden or shrubbery.
Jardine's Marked-tree Line Meeting with their Father A Heroine. 'January' 30. This morning, Mr. F. Jardine with his Brother and the Blackboy, Eulah, started to find the Settlement, leaving the rest of the party encamped with the cattle, in charge of Mr. Scrutton.
I am not sentimental after the fashion of women who send flowers to murderers, but I am full of pale and sickly theories as to the making of a home, and I am free to confess that it would give me more pleasure to hear people say of me, "Mrs. Jardine's husband is the happiest man I know," than to have them read on a bronze tablet under a statue in the Louvre, "Faith Jardine, Sculptor."
Is your husband always as amusing as he has been here at Peach Orchard? If he is, I am sure mamma would just delight in him only things aren't always happening at Combe Abbey to show him off as they are at Mrs. Jardine's." Mrs. Jimmie looked dubious at the first part of this remark, flushed with pleasure at the middle of it, and looked reproachfully at me at the last.
Jardine's eyes wandered about the room, trying to discover some hiding-place which the careful had overlooked. But so far he could see no such thing There was the tall four-poster, with its square cornice, a ponderous mahogany frame with fluted damask stretched across it. Could Brian have hidden his brandy up yonder, behind the mahogany cornice? Surely not.
It's been a slow failing for two years ever since Mrs. Jardine's death." "She was dead before I came to this kirk. But once, when I was a young man, I stayed awhile in these parts. I remember her." "She was the best of women." "So they said. But she had not that grip upon religion that the laird has!" "Maybe not." Mr. M'Nab directed his glance upon the Glenfernie tutor.
"How truly terrible!" cried Mrs Jardine, then stopped in pitiable confusion, remembering that the lady before her had been almost certainly born and bred a Roman Catholic, though she now attended the tomb-church Sunday by Sunday with Sir Arthur, and betrayed far less impatience than he did when Mr Jardine's discourses exceeded the regulation length.
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