Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 15, 2025
He concluded in his best pulpit manner, and the farce was soon at an end. It was agreed that the gift must be accepted, that proper measures should be taken to rebuke Mr Westray's presumption, as he had no doubt induced Lord Blandamer to select so improper a channel of communication, and that the Rector should himself write direct to thank the noble donor.
"Oh, just so," the man said, with an air of some relief, as Westray's coolness convinced him that he was not contemplating suicide. "Just so, I see; some experiments. Well, in that case, I suppose, you would not require any special facilities for loading again quickly, otherwise I should have recommended one of these," and he took up a weapon from the counter.
Why not plead ill-health, nervous breakdown, those doctor's orders which have opened a way of escape from impasses of the mind as well as of the body? An archaeologic tour in Spain, a yachting cruise in the Mediterranean, a winter in Egypt all these things would be to Westray's taste; the blameless herb nepenthe might anywhere be found growing by the wayside. He must amuse himself, and forget.
"Oh, of course there is no objection," she said, "to your writing in Mr Westray's room. I will show you the way to it." She accompanied him to the room, and having provided writing materials, left him comfortably ensconced in Mr Westray's chair.
This subject also was not to be pursued, so she only said that she was sorry, and her eyes confirmed her words. Lord Blandamer was pained at what he had heard. He knew Farquhar and Farquhar, and knew something of Westray's position and prospects that he had a reasonable income, and a promising future with the firm. This resolve must be quite sudden, a result of yesterday's interview.
Yet he would do nothing underhand, he would take no man unawares; he would tell Lord Blandamer of his discovery, and give him warning before he took any further steps. So he wrote: "My lord," and of the many sheets that were begun and flung away before the letter was finished, two were spoiled because the familiar address "Dear Lord Blandamer" came as it were automatically from Westray's pen.
The air in the church was raw and cold, and a smell of sodden matting drew Westray's attention to the fact that the roofs were not water-tight, and that there were pools of rain-water on the floor in many places. "The nave is the oldest part," said the cicerone, "built about 1135 by Walter Le Bec." "I am very much afraid our friend is too young and inexperienced for the work here.
You haven't a drop of whisky, I suppose?" he said, with a glance at the kettle which stood on a trivet in front of the fire; "I have talked myself thirsty." There was a pathos in his appeal that would have melted many a stony heart, but Westray's principles were unassailable, and he remained obdurate. "No, I am afraid I have not," he said; "you see, I never take spirits myself.
Mr Westray's apartment was on the floor above, and he went at once to his bedroom; for he was very tired with his journey, and with standing so long in the church during the afternoon. He was pleased to find that his portmanteau had been unpacked, and that his clothes were carefully arranged in the drawers.
Miss Euphemia Joliffe would have liked to ignore altogether the matter of Westray's letter, and to have made no further remarks thereon; but curiosity is in woman a stronger influence than pride, and curiosity drove her to recur to the letter. "Thank you, my dear, for explaining about it. I am sure you will tell me if there are any messages for me in it."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking