Ogilvie and the boys betook
themselves to the school, and Carey and her little ones to the shade
of the garden-wall, to finish their French reading, while Mary
wondered the less at the Kenminster ladies.
CHAPTER IX. FLIGHTS.
Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at
this time of night? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time
in you?-—Twelfth-Night.
The summer holidays not only brought home Allen Brownlow from Eton,
but renewed his mother's intercourse with several of her friends, who
so contrived their summer outing as to "see how poor little Mrs.
Brownlow was getting on," and she hailed them as fragments of her
dear old former life.
Mr. and Mrs. Acton came to a farmhouse at Redford, about a mile and a
half off, where Mr. Acton was to lay up a store of woodland and home
sketches, and there were daily meetings for walks, and often out-of-
door meals. Mr. Ogilvie declared that he was thus much more rested
than by a long expedition in foreign scenery, and he and his sister
stayed on, and usually joined in the excursion, whether it were
premeditated or improvised, on foot, into copse or glade, or by train
or waggonette, to ruined abbey or cathedral town.
Then came two sisters, whom old Mrs.
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