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Updated: June 22, 2025
And it was possible to descend the stairs and leave the hotel without being seen from the lounge or smoking-room. There was a wagonette to St. Fair from the railway station at half-past-seven. The hotel dinner was at a quarter to seven for the convenience of some permanent guests, and Sisily, who left the table before the meal was concluded about a quarter-past seven, according to Mrs.
That was indeed a question, but it was at length solved by Mr Hawthorn deciding to walk, and the wagonette was ready to proceed, David sitting in front as usual. After several efforts to make Andrew talk he fell back for amusement on his own thoughts, and in recognising all the well-known objects they passed on the road.
A dull light shone through heavy mullioned windows, and from the high chimneys which rose from the steep, high-angled roof there sprang a single black column of smoke. "Welcome, Sir Henry! Welcome to Baskerville Hall!" A tall man had stepped from the shadow of the porch to open the door of the wagonette. The figure of a woman was silhouetted against the yellow light of the hall.
The wagonette drove off amid a loud chorus of farewells; and little given to the softer emotions as Pollyooly was, there were tears in her eyes as she looked back on the friends she was leaving. Her last sight of the prince was somewhat depressing: in a final access of despair he was kicking the baron's shins.
Moore has to cross the stream." "If I were you," Lord Rockminster finally said, in a confidential undertone, as they all rose from the table, "I would telegraph about dinner." How Lionel hated the sight of this open door, and the wagonette, and the portmanteau up beside the coachman! "Good-bye, Mr. Moore," said the pleasant-mannered young matron to him, as she took his hand for a moment.
I see Brant outside with the wagonette, not the trap; then I am not the only guest coming by this train. Who are the others, I wonder. Anybody I know? ... Why, yes, it's Bob and Mrs. Bob, and hallo! Cynthia! And isn't that old Anderby? How splendid! I must get that shilling back from Bob that I lost to him at billiards last time. And if Cynthia really thinks that she can play croquet ...
Then, passing the beach, the carriages drove along a smooth country road for a short distance, and turned into a narrow lane running up hill, which presently brought them to a small farm-house built on the very edge of a ravine. "Here we take to our feet," said Mrs. Gray, jumping out of the wagonette. The farmer and his wife, who seemed to be old acquaintances, came out to speak to her.
It was all very well for Brodie, who was at the far end of the wagonette and out of danger; but if he provoked an outbreak, Gourlay would think nothing of tearing Provost and Deacon from their perch and tossing them across the hedge. "What does Wilson mean to make of his son?" he inquired a civil enough question surely. "Oh, a minister. That'll mean six or seven years at the University."
And it is not till dinner is on the table, and the inn's best wine goes round from glass to glass, that we begin to throw off the restraint and fuse once more into a jolly fellowship. Half the party are to return to-night with the wagonette; and some of the others, loath to break up company, will go with them a bit of the way and drink a stirrup-cup at Marlotte.
"No one thanks me for anything," thought Maggie; but she had the prudence to remain silent. "We had better start on our picnic now," said Mr. Tristram, and immediately the whole party climbed into the wagonette. The horses started; the wheels rolled. They were off. By-and-by Merry felt her hand taken by Maggie.
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