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Fitzalan, in the course of a conscientious survey of all the pictures on the walls, had reached this point in their progress. The window-seat on which Goring and Mildred were sitting was visible through a doorway, and Tims had on her strongest glasses. Since her engagement, Tims's old-maidish bringing up seemed to be bearing fruit for the first time.
Fitzalan, when Tims brought him to call on the Stewarts was not afraid of her, and found it possible to say a few words in reply to her remarks. Tims's ceremonious way of speaking of her betrothed, whom she never mentioned except as Mr.
Milly was still asleep, but she had slightly shifted her position, and altogether there was something about her aspect which suggested a slumber less profound than before. Tims leaned over her and spoke softly: "Wake up, M., wake up! You've been asleep quite long enough." Milly's body twitched a little.
I saw 4 Black tail Deer to day before we Set out which came up the mountain and what is Singular Snaped 7 tims at a large buck. it is Singular as my gun has a Steel frisen and never Snaped 7 times before in examining her found the flint loose to describe the road of this day would be a repitition of yesterday excpt the Snow which made it much wors to proseed as we had in maney places to derect our Selves by the appearence of the rubbings of the Packs against the trees which have limbs quiet low and bending downwards
'That I may be certain, concluded the letter, 'that this actually reaches you, I despatch it by Corporal Tims of your troop, with orders to deliver it into your own hand.
Oh, what would !" She was going to say, "What would Aunt Beatrice think of me if she knew how I was giving way!" but a fresh flood of tears suppressed her speech. "My head's so bad! Such a splitting headache!" Tims tried scolding, slapping, a cold sponge, every remedy inexperience could suggest, but the hysterical weeping could not be checked.
Well what do you think was to pay when they got there? Her old cow was choking with a turnip! Now I'm going to tell you one more backwoods story while I'm about it. A great roaring fire was burning in Zeke Smith's log house; and all the Tims, and Joes, and Bills, and Jacks, and Sams had come in to see him.
Tims seated herself on a low chair, in the attitude of certain gargoyles that crouch under the eaves of old churches, elbows on knees, chin on hands, and fixed her eyes in silence on her silent companion. In spite of her work along the acknowledged lines of science, she had pursued her hypnotic studies furtively, half in scorn and half in fear of her scientific brethren.
Then it was that she realized how long it had been since Tims had crept up the stairs to her drawing-room; pausing probably in the middle of them to wipe away with hasty pocket-handkerchief some real or fancied trace of her foot on a carpet which she condemned as expensive.
She did not usually wear ornaments, because she possessed none, except a hair-bracelet, two brooches, and a large gold cross which had belonged to her late aunt. Tony's soft, slender fingers went to the necklace, and ignoring her question, he asked: "Why have you got these funny things round your neck, Auntie Tims?" "They're not funny.
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