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Updated: May 1, 2025
Soon after the surgeon came to her, and begged that she would go into the cabin. "Let me help you, Missie Alice," said Nub. "Better aff dere dan on deck." Alice saw that something was wrong, but could not make out exactly what it was. She went, however, as Mr Lawrie requested her; and taking up a book endeavoured to read, but not with much success.
As sure as he was there thinking over John Gordon and Mary Lawrie, would he maunder away his mind in softnesses. He feared it of himself, was sure of it of himself, and hated himself because it was so. He did acknowledge to himself the truth of the position as asserted by John Gordon.
Were there to be no questions raised as to her own life, her own contentment, her own ideas of what was proper? It was true that this woman knew nothing of John Gordon. But she must have known that there might be a John Gordon, whom she, Mary Lawrie, was required to set on one side, merely because Mr Whittlestaff "wanted her."
I think I know, but I am not quite sure of it. On such a subject I should not like to make a surmise unless I were confident." "It's about Miss Lawrie." "I suppose so." "What makes you suppose that?" said Whittlestaff, sharply. "You told me that you were sure I should know." "So I am, quite sure. You came all the way down to Alresford to see her.
Lawrie went on board a steamer at Southampton, bound for New York. She was travelling alone, having been called suddenly from Europe by the approaching death of her aged father.
Under the pen name of "Lawrie Todd" he contributed to the Knickerbocker Magazine and other New York periodicals, and supplied John Galt, the novelist, with much of the information incorporated in his "Lawrie Todd; or, Settlers in the New World." Thorburn also published two volumes of reminiscences, "Forty Years' Residence in America," and "Fifty Years' Reminiscences of New York."
"What did fortune e'er deny her? Were not all her warriors brave?" That last line seems to me distinctly weak. I don't know how it strikes you. 'You're hypercritical, Wells, said the Head. 'Now, for a boy I consider that a very good beginning. What do you say, Lawrie? 'I er. Oh, I think I am hardly a judge. 'To resume, said Mr Mortimer Wells.
Nub came in and placed the tea-things on the table, and she made tea. At last Mr Lawrie came in, apparently in a great hurry, and somewhat agitated. Of course she asked him if the boats were in sight. "I hope they soon will be," he answered. "Is there anything the matter?" she asked.
"He's been setting you on me, has he? Yes, he's jealous he wanted Bessy himself, but she would not look at him. He thinks nobody knows it, but I do. Bessy marry him? It's very likely!" "Lawrie Eastman, you are daft. George hasn't said anything to me. You surely don't imagine Bessy Houghton would marry you. And if she would, she is too old for you. Now, don't you hang around her any longer."
He did tell himself again and again, that Mary Lawrie should not be encouraged to put her faith in diamonds. But he felt that it was only an excuse. In arguing the matter backwards and forwards, he could not but tell himself that he did believe in John Gordon. And then an idea, a grand idea, but one very painful in its beauty, crept into his mind.
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