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Updated: July 20, 2025
"I wish," said Jock, "that The Rigs could be lifted up by some magician and plumped down in Laverlaw Glen." "Oh, Jock, wouldn't that be fine?" sighed the Mhor. "Plumped right down at the side of the burn, and then we could fish out of the windows." The sun had left the glen, the Laverlaw Water ran wan; it seemed suddenly to have become a wild and very lonely place.
The Elliots were an old and honoured family, and the present laird, though shy and retiring, was much liked by his tenants, and respected by everyone. Pamela had made herself very popular in Priorsford, and people were pleased that she should remain as lady of Laverlaw. "Ay," said Mrs. M'Cosh, "he's waited lang, but he's waled weel in the end.
"And you couldn't say fairer than that, my dear. No, no, Lewis. If I marry you we'll live at Laverlaw I love your green glen already; it's a place after my own heart. We won't trouble London much, but spend our declining years among the sheep unless you become suddenly ambitious for public honours and, as Mrs. Hope desires, enter Parliament." "There's no saying what I may do now.
I can easily picture True Thomas walking by that stream." "Long ago," said Jock in his gruff voice, "there was a keep at Laverlaw instead of a house, and Cousin Lewis' ancestors stole cattle from England, and there were some fine fights in this glen. Laverlaw Water would run red with blood." "Jock," Jean protested, "you needn't say it with such relish." Pamela turned to her host.
"I dare say. But in the meantime I am happy happy in a contented, quiet way that I never knew before. "It is strange that our old friend Lewis Elliot is living near Priorsford, at a place called Laverlaw, about five miles up Tweed from here. Do you remember what good times we used to have with him when he came to stay with the Greys?
"Lewis Elliot says Priorsford is made up of three classes the dull, the daft, and the devout." Pamela, looking for the book she wanted to lend to Jean, stopped and stood still as if arrested by the name. "Lewis Elliot!" "Yes, of Laverlaw. D'you know him, by any chance?" "I used to know a Lewis Elliot who had some connection with Priorsford, but I thought he had left it years ago."
"Pamela, can you really marry a fool like me? ... It's my fault that we've missed so much, but thank God we haven't missed everything. I think I could make you happy. I wouldn't ask you to stay at Laverlaw for more than a month or two at a time. We would live in London if you wanted to. I could stick even London if I had you." Pamela looked at him with laughter in her eyes.
"In winter," said Mhor, "the sky should always be grey. It's more suitable." "What a couple of ungrateful creatures you are," Jean said; "I'm ashamed of you. And as it happens you are going to have a great treat because of the good day. I didn't tell you because I thought it would very likely pour. Cousin Lewis said if it was a good day he would send the car to take us to Laverlaw to luncheon.
"I'm very fond of Lewis," said Mrs. Hope, "but I wish to goodness he had never inherited Laverlaw. He might have done a lot in the world with his brain and his heart and his courage, but there he is contentedly settled in that green glen of his, and greatly absorbed in sheep. Sheep! The country is run by the Sir John Bankses, and the Lewis Elliots think about sheep. It's all wrong. It's all wrong.
Duff-Whalley when that lady desired an answer in the affirmative, but he had condemned himself roundly to himself as a fool as he drove down the glen from Laverlaw. Mrs. Duff-Whalley always gave a long and pretentious meal, and expected everyone to pay for their invitation by being excessively bright and chatty. It was not in the power of the present guests to be either the one thing or the other.
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