Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 12, 2025
I wonder what has become of my kinsman, Antony Thornhirst. He came with Lady Tilchester to the wedding. I saw his strange eyes looking at me as I walked down the aisle on Augustus's arm. His face was the only one I realized in the crowd. We did not speak; indeed, he never was near me afterwards until I got into the carriage. I wonder if he will be at Harley I wonder!
A sickening disgust overwhelmed me. And there would be no Lady Tilchester to save me to-night! "Open the window," I said to Atkinson, "and persuade Mr. Gurrage to go to bed when he wakes." And I left the room. All my guests were assembled when I got into the first drawing-room. Indeed, it was twenty minutes to nine. Mrs. Dodd had the air of an aggrieved turkey-gobbler.
Augustus is in a continual ferment, as the report that the rest of the Tilchester Yeomanry are going to volunteer for active service has cropped up frequently, and, while he likes the uniform and what he considers the prestige of belonging to such a corps, he has no ardor for using his weapons against the Boers.
He would know that this must be final. What had been his idea all along? How could he think I should never find out, and having done so, that I would ever accept such a position? Or was it that he, like all his world, thought so lightly of passing from one love to another that fidelity to Lady Tilchester was among the catalogue of things that do not count.
"Antony," called out Lord Tilchester, "you have arrived in the nick of time to save Babykins from turning into a hospital nurse. She thinks the costume becoming, and threatens to leave us for the wounded heroes. Cannot you restrain her?" "How?" asked Sir Antony, helping himself to some chicken curry. "Really excellent curry your chef makes, Tilchester."
We started, more or less in a body, towards the gallery, Lady Tilchester, with her usual tact, stopping to point out any notable picture or tapestry to the aunt on the way, so that the search should not look too pointed. In the farthest corner, perched on a high window-seat that must have required a knowledge of vaulting to reach sat the guilty pair, dangling their feet.
Grandmamma said it was no doubt the engagement-ring he had gone to London to buy, and that I really must receive it with a good grace. At about four o'clock, while I was reading aloud the oration of Bossuet on the funeral of Madame d'Orléans, the tuff-tuff-tuff of a motorcar was heard, and it drew up at our gate and out got Sir Antony Thornhirst and Lady Tilchester.
Two other women, the heiress, Babykins, and Lord Tilchester, and several young men sat round the table like children eating their bread-and-jam. The Duke and Miss Martina B. Cadwallader were examining the armor. Some one was playing the piano softly. Merry laughter floated upward. I doubt if any other country could produce such a scene. It would have pleased grandmamma.
Her voice was retrospecting. "You have known him very long?" I questioned. "Ever since I married, fourteen years ago. I remember I saw him first at my wedding. He and Tilchester had, of course, been old friends, always living so near each other. We are exactly the same age thirty-four, both of us. Growing old, you see!"
He has delightful parties there when the shooting begins." "It would interest me to see it, because grandpapa came from there," I said. "Of course, you are cousins, in a way. You don't know how interested Antony was in you that night after the Tilchester Yeomanry ball.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking