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Updated: June 14, 2025
Dorothea watched the crowd closing round it as it drew up by "The Dogs," and turned to note that the Admiral's face was pale and his eyes sought those of his old friend. "Better leave it to me to-day, if Miss Westcote will excuse me." General Rochambeau lifted his hat and hurried after the crowd. Then Dorothea understood.
"Oh, yes. And I know Mr. Randall, too. He is so good to old David." "I know he would be. I met him once at the Sign of the Maple with my father, and he seemed to be so different from most men. He was so manly and had such a strong face. I liked him as soon as I saw him." "He deserves great credit, Miss Westcote. He is a self-made man, and his life has been a hard one.
Westcote held out his hand. "I have heard about you, and have been quite anxious to see you. How are you making out with your new charge?" "Great," and a smile wreathed the girl's face. "He is so happy here, and likes for me to read to him. But he is so funny at times, and interrupts me to ask questions." "What about?" Mr. Westcote enquired. "Oh, about Break Neck Falls.
When they saw two well-known figures, feet on the rest, coasting merrily down and head for Westcote, they all drew a long breath and girded up their loins for the race. "With luck and the short cuts," said Grim, stepping out, "we may just see 'em sneak into Pettigrew's woods." "And we've got a mile in hand too," said Wilson.
"'O woman! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please' not, of course, that I attribute any such foibles to Miss Westcote, but for the sake of the conclusion." "Can we see him?" "Eh? Before luncheon? Oh, most assuredly, if you wish it. He has been transferred to the Convalescents' Ward. We will step across at once."
It contained a set of the Bayfield drawings exquisitely cut in stone; and within the cover was wrapped a lighter parcel addressed to Miss Dorothea Westcote a rose-tree, with a packet of seeds tied about its root. No letter accompanied the gift, at the sentimentality of which she found herself able to smile.
We missed Acton and Bourne beautifully; they don't go to Westcote, and Grimmy's idea about poachin' 's rotten. He may be Acton's messenger-boy or the rider of a decent pneumatic, but I'm going to let him go his own way." When, afterwards, they rubbed embrocation into their wearied limbs, the rest agreed with Rogers. "But, yet," said Grim, "I'd like to know about that cartridge too."
But, as Shakespeare says, 'What's in a name? Perhaps you can suggest a more suitable one?" "A broad-minded fellow," was the general verdict; and some admirers added that ideas which in weaker men might seem to lean towards free thought, and even towards Jacobinism, became Mr. Westcote handsomely enough.
"Oisin" was not given, but the word "oisanite" was, and the meaning of that the code stated to be "five hundred head prime steers." It was enough. The Interurban did not wish to accept the transportation of five hundred extremely ill steers, whose death was imminent. "Westcote, refuse consignment absolutely. Write particulars," he wired. Flannery showed the telegram to Mr.
The captain rode for a while in silence, then, carelessly: "There was, I believe, a family living there before the war the Westcotes." "Yes." She could scarcely utter a word for the suffocating throb of her heart. "You knew them?" "Yes." "Do do they still live at Sandy River?" "The house still stands. Major Westcote is dead." "Her I mean their grandfather?" She nodded, incapable of speech.
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