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Updated: May 21, 2025
One Saturday afternoon he called at the house; she was compelled to share some of her perplexities. "He seems so very feeble," she remarked. They were sitting on the veranda some distance from Oliphant's room, yet their conversation was furtive. "Perhaps he should see a doctor or a minister." "No, I don't think so," Edwards replied, assuringly.
Oliphant's, and even Miss Broughton's shrews are always odious, and they all seem to start from the page alive.
Oliphant's horrible portrait of her as a plain-faced, lachrymose, middle-aged spinster, dying, visibly, to be married, obsessed for ever with that idea, for ever whining over the frustration of her sex. What Mrs.
"Aunty Pussy came into the room and the conversation turned to Laurence Oliphant's objection to visiting the graves of those we love.
The upshot was that we decided to trek to the Oliphant's River, camp there and explore the bush on the other side on horseback, never going so far from the wagon that we could not reach it again before nightfall. This, then, we did, outspanning that evening by the hot but beautiful river which was still haunted by a few hippopotamus and many crocodiles, one of which we shot before turning in.
As Rose was walking slowly down the corridor she saw a girl come out of Miss Oliphant's room, turn quickly in the opposite direction to the one from which she was coming, and, quickening her pace to a run, disappear from view. Rose recognized this girl: she was Priscilla Peel. Rose hastened her own steps and peeped into Maggie's room.
I suppose people in professions do marry without having fortunes." "When they have settled professions, Nora." "And why is not his a settled profession? I believe he receives quite as much at seven and twenty as Uncle Oliphant does at sixty." "But your Uncle Oliphant's income is permanent." "Lawyers don't have permanent incomes, or doctors, or merchants."
I don't want Maggie to hear." Now why were Miss Oliphant's ears so sharp that afternoon? Why, even in the midst of her gay chatter to Constance, did she hear every word of Priscilla's queer, garbled speech? And why did astonishment and even anger steal into her heart?
She often said that Maggie Oliphant's laziness rested her. "What is it?" said Maggie again. "How are we in the wrong, Nance?" She lifted her dimpled hand as she spoke and contemplated it with a slow, satisfied sort of smile. "We have made a mistake about Miss Peel, that is all; she is a very noble girl." "Oh, my dear Nance! Poor little Puritan Prissie! What next?"
On the 28th they found themselves at a place called Vlakfontein, immediately south of Oliphant's Nek. On that day there were indications that there were a good many Boers in the neighbourhood. Dixon left a guard over his camp and then sallied out in search of the buried guns.
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