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'It is quite charming to see you, and to think that Chickaree is inhabited and has a mistress it makes Moscheloo, I assure you, several degrees brighter. Now, my dear, what will you have? is it nothing but to take off this habit-skirt? let me undo it. What an odd mortal that is, that came with you! But to that Wych Hazel answered nothing.
Rollo saw her in without a word, and turned away. And Miss Kennedy, as if her spite against something or somebody was not yet appeased, began deliberately, one by one, to take the 'favours' off her dress and drop them through the open carriage window upon the road. The fancy ball at Moscheloo was a brilliant affair.
Bywank, said Rollo, looking as if his recollections in that quarter were pleasant 'which were not as soft as swansdown. But here we are coming to Moscheloo. How much do you know about fishing? 'Rather less than I do about anything else. O, I remember Mrs. Bywank said she used to know you. 'Mrs. Bywank is an old friend. In the times when I had, practically, two guardians though only Dr.
Her hearer's brows contracted a little, and the grey eyes snapped; but he was silent. 'Now here's this fancy ball at Moscheloo, said Mrs. Bywank, 'with all sorts of charades that nobody ought to be in. 'What is that? I have not heard of it. 'I opine they have kept it rather close, said the housekeeper, 'the day after to-morrow it comes off; and not a soul let in without a ticket.
They came to the open gate of Moscheloo, and began to ascend more slowly the terraced road of the grand entrance. The house stood high; to reach it the avenue made turn after turn, zig-zagging up the hill between and under fine old trees that overshadowed its course. 'Here we are, said Rollo, looking up toward the yet distant house.
Now do you want another canter? There was a mile of smooth way between them and the grounds of Moscheloo; a level road bordered with Lollard poplars. The grey went well, spite of his age and steadiness, and Vixen behaved her prettiest; but she was not much of a steed after all, and just now was shewing the transforming power of a good rider. And the rider was good company.
The house shewed large and stately; the flight of steps imposing. Hot-house plants stood around in boxes; the turf was well shaven; the gravelled road in order; the overhanging trees magnificent. Moscheloo was a fine place. As the riders approached the door, Mme. Lasalle came forward, pouring forth welcomes, and invitations to Rollo.
'An infirmity, you call it? Well, displace anybody you like, but me, said Wych Hazel, arranging herself in a small luxury of fatigue against the not too luxurious back of the rockaway. Her companion was silent a few minutes until the carriage passed out from the Moscheloo grounds and had gone a few rods; then he tapped Mr. Falkirk's factotum on the shoulder. 'Mr.
And now came up the question of her engagement at Moscheloo; if she was going, she ought to be off, and it appeared that there was no vehicle on the place in fit order to take her. Mr. Falkirk proposed to send to Crocus. 'Too far, said Rollo. 'Suppose you put yourself in the saddle, and let me convoy you over to Moscheloo? It's good for a ride, this morning.
Do you see, further to the north, standing high on a hill, a white house-front that catches the sun? 'Yes. 'Mme. Lasalle's, Moscheloo. It's a pretty place nothing like Chickaree. When we reach the next turning you will catch a glimpse of Crocus in the other direction do you know what Crocus is? 'O yes, the village. Our house was brown, I remember that, and as you go up the hill Mr.
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