Lord Trevlyn’s Heir

Conrad Fitzgerald

Sunday at Trevlyn

In Peril

Wilt thou Have this Woman?

Woo’d, and Married, and A’

[vi]

Married

Mischief-makers

The Little Rift

MONICA.

[1]

[1]

CHAPTER THE FIRST. THE TREVLYNS OF CASTLE TREVLYN.

“Good-bye, Monica. I will look in again to-morrow: but I assure you there is no cause for anxiety. He is not worse than usual, and will be better soon.”

The doctor was buttoning up his heavy driving-coat as he spoke, and at the conclusion of the sentence he opened the heavy oak door, letting in a blast of cold air and a sheet of fine, penetrating rain.

“Oh, Raymond, what weather! I ought not to have sent for you.”

[2]

[2]

“Nonsense! You know I am weather-proof. Old Jack will find his way home, if I cannot. Good-bye again.”

 Prev. P 2/76 next