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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"Chantry House"


Never did I feel my incapacity more than on that strange night, when
Emily was flying about with Martyn to all the doors and windows in a
wild state of excitement, humming to herself -

'When the dawn on the mountain was misty and gray,
My true love has mounted his steed and away.'

My mother was equally restless, prolonging as much as possible the
preparation of rooms for possible guests; and when she did come and
sit down, she netted her purse with vehement jerks, and scolded
Emily for jumping up and leaving doors open.
At last, after an hour according to the clock, but far more by our
feelings, wheels were heard in the distance; Emily was off like a
shot to reconnoitre, and presently Martyn bounced in with the
tidings that a pair of carriage lamps were coming up the drive. My
mother hurried out into the hall; I made my best speed after her,
and found her hastily undoing the door-chain as she recognised the
measured, courteous voice of old Mr. Fordyce. In a moment more they
were all in the house, the old gentleman giving his arm to his
daughter-in-law, who was quite overcome with distress and alarm;
then came his tall, slim granddaughter, carrying her little sister
with arms full of dolls, and sundry maid-servants completed the
party of fugitives.
'We are taking advantage of Mr. Winslow's goodness,' said the old
Rector.


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