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"Indeed I have. And we had the most delightful time together. I want to see a great deal of her while she's here." "You're joking?" remarked Alaric cautiously. "Not at all. She has the frank honest grip on life that I like better than anything in mankind or womankind. She has made me a convert to Home Rule already." The luncheon-gong sounded in the distance.
Geoffrey Stonor and his bride-to-be were more alone now in the midst of this shouting mob than they had been since the Ulland House luncheon-gong had broken in upon and banished momentary wonderment about the name that name beginning with V. Plain to see in the flushed and happy face that Jean Dunbarton was not 'asking questions. She was listening absorbed to the oldest of all the stories.
"Only half-an-hour for Rorie," she thought. The minute-hand crept slowly to the half-hour, the luncheon-gong sounded below, and there had been no announcement of Mr. Vawdrey. "He may be downstairs with mamma all this time," thought Vixen. "Forbes would not tell me, unless he were sent." She went downstairs and met Forbes in the hall. "Oh, if you please, ma'am, Mrs.
She felt quite sufficient confidence in her own womanhood to carry her through any difficulty which might arise. From Diana's Grove she heard each day the luncheon-gong from Castra Regis sound, and knew the hour when the servants would be in the back of the house. She would enter the house at that hour, and, pretending that she could not make anyone hear her, would seek him in his own rooms.
May we not hope to make up in quality for what we lack in quantity?" "I think not," remarked the Professor, gravely. "But there is your luncheon-gong. No, thank you, Mrs. Esdaile, I cannot stay. My carriage is waiting. Good-bye. Good-bye, Mrs. O'James." He raised his hat and stalked slowly away among the laurel bushes. "He has no taste," said Mrs. Esdaile "no eye for beauty."
"And she'll be equally charming as the helpmeet of the village schoolmaster. Egad, we can't have everything, but I think you've found your fate." The luncheon-gong rang through the house with a tremendous booming, and Vera Fielding, sitting limply in a chair by her open window, closed her eyes with drawn brows as if the sound were too much for her overwrought nerves.
Now, go upstairs and wash your hands; the luncheon-gong will ring in five minutes, and we must be punctual at meals." Nora slowly left the room. "Oh! but it's like lead my heart is," she said to herself. The day passed very dismally for the wild Irish girl. After lunch she and her aunt had a long and proper drive.
She rose, in excellent spirits, shortly after noon, and began an unhurried toilet. The toilet was so unhurried, indeed, that she had hardly finished and descended to the family sitting-room on the second floor when her father's latch-key was heard clicking in the front door. This sound was the unofficial luncheon-gong. The House of Heth proceeded to the dining-room, where Mr.
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