Blogs and book

Perhaps this Mr. Hammond had graduated north of the Tweed, and had come
southward to rob the native. Mary was not any more inclined to be civil
to him because he was a linguist. He had a pleasant manner, frank and
easy, a good voice, a cheery laugh. But she had not yet made up her mind
that he was a gentleman.
'If some benevolent old person were to take a fancy to Charles Ford, the
wrestler, and send him to a Scotch University, I daresay he would turn
out just as fine a fellow,' she thought, Ford being somewhat of a
favourite as a local hero.
The two young men went off to the billiard-room after they had dined. It
was half-past ten by this time, and, of course, Mary did not go with
them. She bade her brother good-night at the dining-room door.
'Good-night, Molly; be sure you are up early to show me the dogs,' said
Maulevrier, after an affectionate kiss.
'Good-night, Lady Mary,' said Mr. Hammond, holding out his hand, albeit
she had no idea of shaking hands with him.
She allowed her hand to rest for an instant in that strong, friendly
grasp.


Pages:
88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112