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Poor thing! she has such weak nerves. Mr. Elmour, may I trouble you to ring the bell for our carriage? Miss Turnbull has such sensibility! This meeting, so unexpected, with so many old friends, has quite overcome her." Miss Turnbull, recalled to herself by Mrs. Ingoldsby's voice, repeated the request to have her carriage immediately, and departed with Mrs.
Turnbull was the gentleman selected. Dr. Turnbull was the doctor who, it will be remembered, lived in the square near the church. There was another doctor in Eastthorpe, Mr. Butcher, of whom we have heard, but Dr. Turnbull's reputation as a doctor was far higher than Mr. Butcher's. What Eastthorpe thought of Dr. Turnbull as a man is another matter. Mr.
"Fellows who have read medical books or fellows whose fathers and uncles had something hereditary in their heads the whole air they breathe is mad." "All the same," said Turnbull, shrewdly, "I bet you haven't found a madman of that sort." "I bet I have!" cried Evan, with unusual animation. "I've been walking about the garden talking to a poor chap all the morning.
The guest fumbled in his pocket, and produced three guineas, which he slipped into Turnbull's fat palm. "Let punch flow till that's out. I'm an old friend of the house. I call here, back and forward. I know you well, Turnbull, though you don't recognize me." "You have the advantage of me, sir," said Mr.
By the end of the fortnight he knew what was the favourite breakfast-food of J. Turnbull; what Sandy Turnbull wore next his skin; and who, in the opinion of Meredith, was England's leading politician. These facts, imparted to and discussed with Mr Rossiter, made the progress of the entente cordiale rapid. It was on the eighth day that Mr Rossiter consented to lunch with the Old Etonian.
The junior officer of the court, a lieutenant of cavalry, slowly stretched forth his hand, picked up the solitaire and eyed it with an assumption of critical yet respectful interest. The president, a grizzled, red-faced veteran, presently stole a glance at Turnbull, who sat with stolid features immediately on his right.
"For nearly thirty years I have walked these islands and have not found another." "You are always hard to follow," remarked Turnbull, genially, "and sometimes so much so as to be hardly worth following." "I alone am loyal," insisted MacIan; "for I alone am in rebellion. I am ready at any instant to restore the Stuarts.
There was not a sore spot about him, and probably his first thoughts on waking every morning told him that he, at least, was totus teres atque rotundus. He was, of course, a thorough Radical, and so was Mr. Monk. But Mr. Monk's first waking thoughts were probably exactly the reverse of those of his friend. Mr. Monk was a much hotter man in debate than Mr. Turnbull; but Mr.
My canoe is rather crank, and if you should happen to tumble overboard in getting into her I would not answer for your life; the lagoon swarms with sharks, and as likely as not there are one or two under the ship's bottom at this moment." Turnbull grunted and turned away, looking forward to where two or three men were loafing about on the forecastle, hard at work doing nothing.
"When did you first learn of the supposed burglary and the death of James Turnbull?" "The McIntyre twins told me about the tragedy on their return from the police court," answered Mrs. Brewster, and settled herself a little more comfortably in the witness chair. "When you were in the reception room, Mrs.
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