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Updated: June 7, 2025
"I would say," said Traquair, "that she was the daughter of a grand family that had fallen from their high estate. I would say, 'Charge, nephew, charge!" "Do you mean it!" exclaimed McTavish. "There's no more lovely lass in the United Kingdom," said Traquair, "than Miss Miss " "MacNish," McTavish helped him; "and she would be mistress where she had been servant. That's a curious twist of fate."
"And after all," she concluded, "if he thinks I'm just a housekeeper, and falls in love with me and asks me to marry him I'd know the man was sincere wouldn't I, Traquair?" "It seems to me," said Traquair, "that I have never seen you so thoroughly delighted with yourself." "That is unkind.
"In my country," said McTavish, "when a girl refuses to marry a man they call it throwing him down, giving him the sack, or handing him a lemon." "Yours is an exceptional country," said Traquair. Miss MacNish appeared in the doorway behind them. "I'm sorry to have been so long," she said; "I had to give out the linen for luncheon."
The next day Traquair appeared like a man who had gone under the harrows; and his lady wife thenceforward continued in her old course without the least deflection. Thenceforward Ninian went on his way without complaint, and suffered his wife to go on hers without remonstrance.
The thought, like some stealing perfume, carried him back to those wonderful nights at Richmond when after dinner he sat smoking on the terrace of the Crown and Sceptre with Nicholas Treffry and Traquair and Jack Herring and Anthony Thornworthy. How good his cigars were then!
Traquair found McTavish smoking a thick London cigarette upon the steps of the side entrance, and gazing happily into a little garden of dark yew and vivid scarlet geraniums with daring edgings of brightest blue lobelia. "Will you be making any changes," asked Traquair, "when you come into your own?" McTavish looked up with a smile and handed his open cigarette case to the older man. "Mr.
His wife, Lady Durie, after the first emotions of intense grief, went, with her whole family, into mourning; and young and old lamented the fate of one of the most learned judges and best men that ever sat on the judgment-seat of Scotland. There was nothing now to prevent Traquair from reaping the fruits of his enterprise.
It is a wonderful thing when a girl of position, and hedged in as I have been, finds that she is loved for herself alone and not for her houses and lands, and her almost royal debts." "Verra flattering," said Traquair, "na doot. And what answer will you give?" "Traquair," she said, "I'm not a profane girl; but I'm hanged if I know."
She was a friend and correspondent of Sir Walter Scott, who in describing "Tully Veolan" drew Traquair House with literal exactness, even down to the rampant bears which still guard the locked entrance-gates against all comers until the Royal Stuarts shall return to claim their own. Lady Louisa Stuart lived to be ninety-nine, and died in 1876.
He was in a savage temper the elements had conspired to show him things he did not want to see; yet now and then a memory of Rozsi, of her soft palm in his, a sense of having been stroked and flattered, came over him. During breakfast next morning his brother and Traquair announced their intention of moving on.
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