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Updated: May 27, 2025
When she reached the cabin, Jack had just come from the mine, and Mike, fortunately, had gone down to the Y for needed supplies, and would not return for some hours. After talking a little while, Lyle skillfully brought the conversation around to Mr. Houston, and stated that he was in Silver City. "What is he doing there?" asked Jack, in a tone of surprise, "Is he going to remain there?"
"Who's that? What d'ye want?" came the response in a surly tone. "Sh! don't make any noise," he whispered, "it's Haight; get up and come out on the porch, but be quiet about it; I want to have a talk with you." A muttered assent was given, and Haight tip-toed softly out to the porch, and sat down. Lyle crept up-stairs again to Miss Gladden.
Under other circumstances, this happy change in him would have relieved us greatly, but none of us could think of anything save the death of his elder son and of the charge which hung over Arthur. "As long as Inspector Lyle remained in the house my father decided that I, as one of the legal advisers of the family, should also remain there. But there was little for either of us to do.
There are signs of bad weather, and my aunt is not strong, so, as Miss Lyle presses us, we shall stay here until to-morrow noon, and I want you to ride over and tell my father. He might grow uneasy about me and for some reason I feel uneasy about him, while, as he has been ailing lately, I should not like for him to venture across the prairie.
Lyle, saying that he was about to be married desiring certain business arrangements to be made and ending by the remark, that he knew this marriage would not meet with the cordial approval of his kind guardian, and for this he was truly sorry; but was more than compensated for this by the knowledge that he had the best wishes of his dear sister, Constance, and begged Mr.
She may be perfectly proper she MAY be but she is not the style we are accustomed to in London." "I should rather think not!" interrupted Lord Fulkeward, hastily. "By Jove! She wouldn't have a hair left on her head in London, don'cher know!" "What do you mean?" inquired Muriel Chetwynd Lyle, simpering. "You really do say such funny things, Lord Fulkeward!"
There was an old widow lady with a cottage near the beach who sometimes rented a room or two just for company, and she took me in. She had another boarder, too the Reverend Arthur Lyle. "Yes, he was the head-liner. You're on, Lynn. I'll tell you all of it in a minute. It's only a one-act play. "The first time he walked on, Lynn, I felt myself going; the first lines he spoke, he had me.
"The man looked frightened, but answered, promptly, that he was now upon his third round. He had made one postal delivery at seven that morning and another at eleven. "'How many letters did you leave here? Lyle asked. "'About six altogether, the man answered. "'Did you put them through the door into the letter-box? "The postman said, 'Yes, I always slip them into the box, and ring and go away.
Pardon me, but I think that brute fears neither God, man nor devil, and how you can assert that he is in fear of his wife, whom he has always abused mercilessly, I cannot imagine." "It is a fact, nevertheless; for one morning after he had been exceedingly abusive and insulting in his language toward Lyle, Mrs.
For a few moments, both were silent; Lyle, in her abstraction, loosened her hair, and it fell around her like a veil of fine-spun gold. An idea suddenly occurred to Miss Gladden, and rising from her chair, she gathered up the golden mass, and began to rearrange and fasten it, Lyle scarcely heeding her action, so absorbed was she in thought.
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