United States or Cambodia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"You're looking awfully thin," she exclaimed, with sudden compunction. "I wish you had never gone into this horrid campaign. I wish they had nominated somebody else." Lorne smiled half-bitterly. "I shouldn't wonder if a few other people wished the same thing," he said. "But I'm afraid they'll have to make the best of it now."
This Home serves a somewhat similar purpose as that at Lorne House, but the young women taken in here while awaiting their confinement are not, as a rule, of so high a class. In the garden at the back of the house about forty girls were seated in a kind of shelter which protected them from the rain, some of them working and some talking together, while others remained apart depressed and silent.
It was characteristic of the master and the house that they made everybody feel at home, from the titled aristocrat in the dress-suit to the free-and-easy brother-brush or pen, and the sometimes out-at-elbow friend Bohemian. There was the Duke of Sutherland, the Marquis of Lorne, Lord Dufferin, Mr.
The hand that lay upon the shelf of the mantelpiece shook and closed quickly. She lifted up her head and looked at him. Her eyes were misty and faint clouds of color were coming and going over her face. "What is it?" he asked. "Surely, Miss Lorne, you are not afraid of me?" "No," she said, averting her face again. "Not of you but of myself.
Got him! 'Ere you are, Miss Lorne lay hold of his little lordship, will you? I've got me blessed hands full a keepin' to me perch whilst the guv'nor's a-wobbling of the branch like this. Good biz! Now then, sir, another 'arf a yard. That's the call! Hands on this bough and foot on the bank there. One, two, three knew you'd do it! Safe as houses, Gawd bless yer bully heart!"
I don't know that I'd approve of that myself," laughed the confident young man. "Hesketh is driving Mrs Farquharson, and the cutter will easily hold three. Isn't it lucky there's sleighing?" "Mother couldn't object to that," said Dora. "Lorne, I always said you were the dearest fellow! I'll wear a thick veil, and not a soul will know me." "Not a soul would in any case," said Lorne.
It is valuable in itself, and it produces an occasional detached sensation. There was the case, in Dr Drummond's church, of placid-faced, saintly old Sandy MacQuhot, the epileptic. It used to be a common regret with Lorne Murchison that as sure as he was allowed to stay away from church Sandy would have a fit.
Then, excusing himself to the ladies, he passed into the inner room in company with Narkom, and carried the letter with him. When he returned it was still in his hand, but there were greyish smudges all over it. "There's not a finger-print in the lot that is worth anything as a means of identification, Miss Lorne," he said.
Miss Lorne came to an instant standstill and clutched her belongings closer to her with a shake and a quiver; and a swift prickle of goose-flesh ran round her shoulders and up and down the backs of her hands.
"That may be," said Mr Murchison, and settled down in his armchair behind the Dominion. "I agree with Father," said Advena. "He won't be any good, Lorne." "Advena prefers Scotch," remarked Stella. "I don't know. He's full of the subject," said Lorne. "He can present it from the other side."
Word Of The Day