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Updated: June 29, 2025
There were hot words with Diggs, who hinted that Virginia was not the beauty of the century, and threats of blows with Morson, who too boldly affirmed that she was. In the end Champe rode between them, and sent Prince Rupert on his way with a touch of the whip. "For heaven's sake, keep your twaddle to yourselves!" he exclaimed impatiently, "or take my advice, and make for the nearest duck pond.
But deeply I love my darling, for a kind kiss once I got, in return for the gift of a shepherd's pipe. Comatas. Lacon, it never was right that pyes should contend with the nightingale, nor hoopoes with swans, but thou, unhappy swain, art ever for contention. Morson's Judgement. I bid the shepherd cease. But to thee, Comatas, Morson presents the lamb.
The cheerful Christmas smell was in the air the smell of apple toddy, of roasted turkey, of plum pudding in a blaze of alcohol. As he entered after his long ride from college, Betty came up to him and slipped a warm white hand into his cold one, while he met the hazel beams from beneath her lashes. "I hope you have brought Jack Morson," she said. "Virginia is waiting.
Thence, where thou art, I pray thee, begin the match, and there sing thy country song, tread thine own ground and keep thine oaks to thyself. But who, who shall judge between us? Would that Lycopas, the neatherd, might chance to come this way! Comatas. I want nothing with him, but that man, if thou wilt, that woodcutter we will call, who is gathering those tufts of heather near thee. It is Morson.
"He means that we love you because you feed us, the sly scamp." Mrs. Lightfoot shook her head reprovingly. "Oh, I understand you, Mr. Morson," she said amiably, "and a compliment to my housekeeping never goes amiss. If a woman has any talent, it will come out upon her table." "You're right, Molly, you're right," agreed the Major, heartily.
"But you mustn't notice me, please," she begged, "all the neighbours are coming, and there are so many girls, the Powells and the Harrisons and the Dulaneys. I am going to wear pink, but you mustn't notice it, you know." "That's right," said Jack Morson, "make him do his duty by the County, and keep your dances for Diggs and me."
My foot is on my neighbours' heath; I'm host to no man." "Come, now, Beau," remonstrated Jack Morson, looking down from his saddle; "I see in Miss Betty's eyes that she wants me to carry that holly I swear I do." "Then you see more than is written," declared Champe, from the other side, "for it's as plain as day that one eye says Diggs and one Lightfoot isn't it, Betty?"
The same humour was in his voice even as he held his grandfather's hand. "By George, we're glad to get here," was his greeting. "Morson's been cursing our hospitality for the last three miles. Grandpa, this is my friend Morson Jack Morson, you've heard me speak of him; and this is Bland Diggs, you know of him, too."
There they found Virginia and the young men, who had ridden over ahead of them, hanging evergreens for the approaching party. Jack Morson, from the top of the step-ladder, was suspending a holly wreath above the door, while Champe was entwining the mahogany balustrade in running cedar.
"So you will come back in the summer all of you," said Virginia, hopefully, and as she leaned out a white camellia fell from her bosom to the snow beneath. In an instant Jack Morson was off his horse and the flower was in his hand. "We'll bring back all that we take away," he answered gallantly, his fair boyish face as red as Virginia's.
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