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Updated: June 22, 2025
"You are the agent here, I presume?" Maryllia's voice rang cold and clear, there was not a trace of the sweet and coaxing tone in it that had warmed the heart of old Josey Letherbarrow. Leach looked up, lifting his cap half reluctantly. "I am!" "You have had my orders?" Leach was silent.
Ain't she lovely!" while she followed with eagerly admiring eyes the gossamer trail of Maryllia's white gown on the soft turf, and strained her ears to catch the sound of the sweet voice which suddenly broke out in a careless chansonette: "Tu m'aimes, cherie? Dites-moi! Seulement un petit 'oui, Je demande a toi! Le bonheur supreme Vient quand on aime, N'est-ce-pas cherie? 'Oui'!"
She took a sip at her 'cordial, watching with artistic appreciation the gay scene in the Manor dining-room the twinkling lights on the silver and glass and flowers the elegant dresses of the women, the jewels that flashed like starbeams on the lovely neck and shoulders of Lady Beaulyon, the ripples of gold-auburn in Maryllia's hair, it was a picture that radiated with a thousand colours on the eye and the brain, and was certainly one destined, so far as many of those who formed a part of it were concerned, never to be forgotten.
That's quite on the cards, Miss it is reely now!" "Oh, is it, indeed!" and Maryllia's eyes flashed with a sudden fire that made them look brighter and deeper than ever and revealed a depth of hidden character not lacking in self-will, "Well, we shall see! At any rate, I have given my orders, and I expect them to be carried out! You understand!"
Rising from the thick moss and jgrass which quilted over the grave of 'th' owld Squire, Maryllia's father, the bird soared hoveringly aloft into the sun-warmed February air, and by one common impulse the villagers looked up, watching the quivering of its wings. "Bless us! That's the first skylark of the year!" said Mrs.
He even managed to make friends with the great dog Plato, who, ever since Maryllia's accident, had taken up regular hours of vigil outside her bedroom door, regardless of doctor and nurses, though he would move his leonine body gently aside whenever they passed in or out, showing a perfectly intelligent comprehension of their business.
"Isn't she pretty!" she said, indicating with a jerk of her ever gesticulating hand the last luminous glimmer of Maryllia's vanishing gown "She's like Titania, or Kilmeny in Fairyland. Why don't you write something about HER, instead of about some girl you 'imagine' and never see?"
"You shall know everything best or worst to-morrow," he said "But now go in and lie down, Walden! You want rest!" At an imperative sign from him, Walden obediently turned away, not daring to look at the men that now passed him, carrying Maryllia's senseless form back to Abbot's Manor, the beloved home from which she had ridden forth so gaily that morning.
He saw Walden go up to his hostess and bow he also saw the sudden smile that brightened Maryllia's face as she welcomed her clerical guest, the one Churchman of the party. "Rather a distinguished looking fellow," he commented carelessly "Is he clever?" Longford hesitated.
Tapple, breathing hard and curtseying profoundly to the 'future Dook' declared she ''adn't heard nothink, and ''adn't 'ad no orders. Miss Vancourt's letters and telegrams all went up to the Manor as usual. Whereupon, still guided by the astute Longford, Roxmouth so far obeyed Maryllia's parting suggestion as to go and 'kindly call' upon Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby at the Manor itself.
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