Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !

Updated: June 3, 2025


'Well, but I want to tell ye' with an air of mystery. 'Who d'ye think's downstairs? It's Mr. Kinnaird himself. 'Did he come round by the yard to the dairy door? 'That he did; and all to ask how ye were the day. The sparkle of the eye returned, and the smile that almost seemed to dimple the wrinkled cheek. 'And I hope ye offered him something to eat, Jeanie; it's a long ride he takes.

I remember I used to look, in those days, upon every three-volume novel with a sort of veneration, as a feat not, possibly, of literature but at least of physical and moral endurance and the courage of Ajax. In the fated year I came to live with my father and mother at Kinnaird, above Pitlochry.

The rancher had prepared a satisfactory supper; and some time after it was over, Stirling and Mrs. Kinnaird sat together on the veranda. There was, at the time, nobody in the house. The breeze had fallen lighter, though a long ripple still lapped noisily upon the beach, and a half-moon had just sailed up above the clustering pines.

That a young woman of extensive possessions should encourage a camp-packer was, from her point of view, unthinkable. For this reason, perhaps, it was not astonishing that there was for some little time a quiet battle between the two. When Ida desired to go fishing, Mrs. Kinnaird suggested something else, or contrived that the packer should be busy.

"I thought it was woman's curiosity," she said; and then remembered suddenly that on the previous evening she had certainly been a trifle curious about the strange packer from the railroad gang. Miss Kinnaird made no reply to this; but in a moment she stretched out a pointing hand. "Now," she said, "the disturbing element is obtruding itself."

"Time is getting on, and we have rather a long drive," he said. "I may ask Miss Stirling's leave to call on her later. In the meanwhile, if Mrs. Kinnaird will excuse us " His hostess made no attempt to keep him; and, as he moved away, his daughter stopped for a moment beside Ida's chair.

Miss Kinnaird made no objection, and when, soon after the tea was cleared away, the easel she sent for had been set up in the shadow of the beech, she displayed on it several small canvases and water-color drawings. There were vistas of snow mountains, stretches of frothing rivers, and colonnades of towering firs, until at last she laid a canvas on the easel.

That will do. Still, you'll have to take off that jacket. It's frippery." The suspicion of a flush crept into Weston's face; but, after all, a loose blue shirt and duck trousers are considered dress enough in the bush of the Pacific Slope, and he discarded the offending jacket. Miss Kinnaird, however, was not quite satisfied.

"If one managed the thing efficiently, it would, perhaps, lead to the offer of a second-rate semi-administrative post somewhere else in the tropics, though I believe the emoluments are not what one could call liberal." "That is all?" "Yes," said Kinnaird. "I'm afraid one couldn't expect anything further." Ida smiled rather curiously.

Dinner at Gravesend. July 13th. To Aix-la-Chapelle by way of Paris. Heard Mignet read his notice of Tocqueville at the Institute. Spent a fortnight at Aix, and visited Bruges in our way home. August 11th. Went to Novar, by Perth. Thence to Braban, to Ardross, and to Foss, where Lord Kingsdown had taken a moor. Then to Dunnichen; called at Glamis and Kinnaird Castle.

Word Of The Day

serfojee's

Others Looking