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Updated: August 8, 2024
Her dear young lady, as she called Marian, was not dead not lying at the bottom of that cruel river, at which Ellen had often looked with a shuddering horror, of late, thinking of what might be. She was safe, and would no doubt be happy. This was something. Amid the wreck of her own fortunes, Ellen Whitelaw was unselfish enough to rejoice in this. Her husband asked to see Mr.
The Queen's Park, by Hamilton, kicked off against the wind, and a short run by Berry was successful in sending the ball so near the Vale of Leven goal that one of the strangers put it behind, and gave the Queen's Park a corner-flag kick. This was followed by a close scrimmage, in which the ball came near Whitelaw, who sent it down the field.
Whitelaw, with a placid air of superiority; "I'm not the man to bear malice against a pretty woman, and to my mind a pretty woman looks all the prettier when she's in a passion. I'm not in a hurry, you see, Carley; I can bide my time; but I shall never take a mistress to Wyncomb unless I can take the one I like." After this particular evening, Mr.
Yet dimly, in that sluggish soul, there was the consciousness that he had married a woman who hated him, that he had bought her with a price; and, being a man prone to think the worst of his fellow-creatures, Mr. Whitelaw believed that, sooner or later, his wife meant to have her revenge upon him somehow.
These were the guests who consumed great quantities of Ellen's pies and puddings, and who sat under her festal garlands of holly and laurel. She had been especially careful to hang no scrap of mistletoe, which might have afforded Mr. Whitelaw an excuse for a practical display of his gallantry; a fact which did not escape the playful observation of his cousin, Mrs. Tadman.
Whitelaw Reid is noted under Ambassadors. St. Andrew McLean, born in Renton, Dumbartonshire, in 1848, is editor-in-chief of the Brooklyn Citizen, which under his guidance has become an influential paper. Washington McLean and his son, John R. McLean, established one of the greatest newspapers in the Middle West, the Cincinnati Enquirer.
It was not a conscience very difficult to appease. And as for his daughter's pallid looks, those of course were only natural to the occasion. Mr. Whitelaw and Mrs. Tadman were at the church when the bailiff and his daughter arrived.
He had a considerable contempt for the owner of Wyncomb Farm, whom he thought a poor creature both as a man and a farmer; and he fancied that if his daughter married Stephen Whitelaw, he might become the actual master of that profitable estate. He could twist such a fellow as Stephen round his fingers, he told himself, when invested with the authority of a father-in-law. Mr.
Whitelaw Reid; but the pressure of official engagements here has made it impossible for me to do so. I shall be with you in spirit, and shall applaud to the best that can be said in praise of one who, in a life of remarkable variety of achievement, has honored every position he has held. Faithfully yours, CANTON, OHIO, February 8, 1899.
The humblest cottage, with four tiny square rooms and a thatched roof, and just a patch of old-fashioned garden with a sweetbrier hedge and roses growing here and there among the cabbages; would have been a pleasanter habitation than Wyncomb, Ellen Carley thought. Mr. Whitelaw exhibited an unwonted liberality upon this occasion.
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