Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 24, 2025
Wedding breakfasts and receptions are all "much of a muchness," as the Mad Hatter said to another Alice, and it was not until the Mercury was speeding north by west to Scarland Towers, "lent to the happy pair for the honeymoon" while Betty took the children to recuperate at the seaside, that Cynthia felt she was really married.
She fled, dinnerless, to some burrow in Bayswater. These alarums and excursions were accompanied by the ringing of telephones and the flight of carriages back and forth through muddy London, and Cynthia was called on to deal with a whole sheaf of telegrams which demanded replies either to Dover or to Scarland Towers in Shropshire.
Lord Fairholme himself had been singularly fortunate in escaping a mésalliance several, in fact and it was the one great trouble in his otherwise smooth and self-contained life that his high-born and most admirable countess had died soon after the birth of her second child, the present Marchioness of Scarland.
Don't forget I've had fifty-five years of 'em. Gad! I could tell you things all right, let us chuck the dispute for the time. Shall I see you at dinner?" "Yes if you are alone." "There will be no women. I'll take devilish good care of that. Scarland is in town for the show, and he is bringing Sir Ashley Stoke, but Betty is nursing a youngster through the measles. Good Lord!
I?" And he laughed at the conceit, though he wondered what Cynthia would say if, on Monday, he deviated a few miles from the Hereford and Shrewsbury main road and showed her Scarland Towers and the park in which the marquis's prize stock were fattening. "Oh, is she so nice? And pretty, too, I suppose?" "People generally speak of her as good-looking.
"The Marquis of Scarland the man from whom I bought some cattle a few years ago," he said, trusting to the directness of the reply to carry it through unchallenged. Cynthia's brows puckered in a reflective frown. "That is odd," she murmured. "What is odd?" asked her father, while Mrs. Leland bent over the periodical to hide a smile of embarrassment.
"By Jove!" said the Marquis, "you couldn't have jumped quicker if Tomkinson had said 'the devil' instead of 'Dale. Who, then, is Dale?" Medenham hurried from the room without another word. The Earl shook his head. "More mischief!" he muttered. "Dale is George's chauffeur. I suppose he is mixed up in this Vanrenen muddle again." "What muddle is that?" asked Scarland.
Hastily drawing from his breast pocket the letter intrusted to him, he examined the superscription. It was addressed simply to the Marquis of Scarland, and must surely be a document of immense significance, or the young Viscount would not have brought him all the way from London to act as messenger rather than intrust it to the post.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking