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Updated: May 22, 2025
Kenric took old Elspeth back with him to Rothesay, and there, as she would not agree to take up her quarters within the castle, he gave her a little cottage, bidding her remain there in comfort for the rest of her days.
The good folks did chatter now and then, as country gossips will, about him and Christal Manners; and perhaps they would have chattered more, if the young lady had not been almost constantly at the Hall, whither Mr. Gwynne rarely went. But they left the bond between him and Olive Rothesay untouched, untroubled by their idle jests. Perhaps those who remembered the beautiful Mrs.
You do not know how glad I am to see you, my dear friend." And her hand alighted softly on his arm like a bird of peace. Harold pressed it and kept it there, as he often did; they were used to that kind of friendly familiarity. "You are very good, Miss Rothesay. Yes, all is well at Harbury.
As they ascended the staircase, they saw him watching them from below. Olive so content, even though her father was going away. She kissed her hand felt to him with a blithe gesture, and then saw him go in and close the door. When the house sank into quietness, a curious feeling oppressed Captain Rothesay. It seemed to take rise in his wife's infectious fears.
Beautiful and peaceful it looked its ancient tower rising out against the sky, and the evening sun shining on its windows and gilded vane. "That must surely be my landmark," thought Captain Rothesay; and he made an inquiry to that effect of a man passing by.
Verbal landscape-painting is rarely interesting to the general reader; and as Captain Rothesay was certainly not devoted to the picturesque, it seems idle to follow him during his ten-mile ride from the nearest railway station to the place which he discovered was that of Mrs. Gwynne's abode, and where her son was "perpetual curate." Her son!
Gwynne, and to thank him for taking care of my child." They talked for a few minutes, and then Olive persuaded her mother to return to the house. "You will come, Mr. Gwynne?" said Mrs. Rothesay. He answered, hesitating, that the afternoon would close soon, and he must go on to Farnwood Hall. Mrs. Rothesay rose from her chair with the touching, helpless movement of one who is blind.
So she answered by pleading the eleven miles' walk; and the queen of the sports was merciful, adding, "But I must be gone, or Terry will be getting up his favourite tableau of the wounded men of Clontarf, or Rothesay, or the Black Bull's Head, or some equally pleasing little incident." "Is it going on well?" asked Mrs. Poynsett. "Sweetly! Couldn't be better.
Gwynne stopped, put her hand oyer her eyes for a moment, removed it, and looked earnestly at her guest. "Angus Rothesay! how strange this seems! like a dream a dream of thirty years. Well, let us go in."
At noontide the men of Bute were again on board their galley, and when Kenric and his companions, together with young Harald of Islay, had come down from the high rock of the castle, the long oars were set in motion and the gallant ship swept down the Clyde, making the bay of Rothesay before nightfall.
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