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Updated: June 15, 2025


'Curious, you said." "Ah, to be sure, sir. Well, less than half an hour ago there was a stranger here a clergyman too putting the very same question." "I met him at the lodge gates. Oldish man, grey whiskers, mouth like a trap." "That's him, sir." "It's a coincidence, certainly. The more remarkable, I guess, because Meriton nowadays is not much infested with parsons.

The caution with which, at my approach, he transferred this bundle to his arms caused me to glance at it in surprise; and he answered my look by saying with a smile: "They are flowers for the dead the most exquisite flowers from the greenhouses of Mr. Meriton si figuri!" And he waved a descriptive hand.

I believe," she added, "that he was her romance!" "Ha!" exclaimed Bernard, "that's queer! We had a clerk in the bank who gave his name as Meriton, and who cut and ran the very day he heard that Sir Jasper Merrifield was coming out as Commandant. Yes, he was carroty. I rarely saw Wilfred at Clipstone, but this might very well have been the fellow, afraid to face his uncle."

John Campbell remained in Glasgow for the next three days, and Mary was lonely enough at Meriton. It was a little earlier than they usually removed to their city home, but she began to make preparations for that event. In the course of these preparations, it was necessary to inspect the condition of Allan's apartments. How desolate and forsaken they looked!

He smiled to himself as he lazily made contrasts of them. But Fife and the ways of Fife seemed far away. It was like a dream from which he had awakened, and Meriton was the actual and the present. He knew that he would meet Mary Campbell very soon, and he was not indifferent to the meeting.

Late that night, in his smoking-room at Meriton, Sir Miles Chandon knocked out the ashes of his pipe against the bars of the grate, rose, stretched himself, and looked about him. Matters had left a bedroom candle ready to hand on a side-table, as his custom was. But Sir Miles took up the lamp instead.

Now who in the world Matters hasn't burnt down Meriton, I hope?" He opened the telegram and walked with it to the nearest of the electric lamps; read it, and stood pondering. "Louis, when does the new night-express leave for Paris?" "In twenty-five minutes, sir." "Then I've a mind to catch it. Put up a travelling-suit in my bag. I can get out of these clothes in the train.

Then Parson Chichester made an opening "You don't belong to these parts?" he asked. "No. . . . Pardon my curiosity, but are you a friend of Miss Breward's?" "I believe she would allow me to say 'yes. By the way, hereabouts we call her Miss Sally. Everyone does even the butler at Meriton, with whom I was speaking just now."

Rogers, the third mate, remained with the captain and the unfortunate ladies and their companions nearly twenty minutes after Mr. Meriton had quitted the ship. Soon after the latter left the round-house, the captain asked what was become of him, to which Mr. Rogers replied, that he was gone on deck to see what could be done.

He groaned as he remembered. "I was going fine. Nothing could of been better. I had the boys together. We was doing so well that I was riding the cushions and I went around planning the jobs. Nice, clean work. No cans tied to it. But one day I had to meet Suds down in the Meriton Jungle. You know?" "I've heard plenty," said the brakie. "Oh, it ain't so bad the Meriton. I've seen a lot worse.

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