Le Queux, William, 1864-1927 / 2008-07-20 00:00:00
The original fortalice of the Muries, half a mile distant, was, like
Glencardine, a ruin. The present Priory, notwithstanding its
old-fashioned towers and lancet windows, was a comparatively modern
structure, and the ivy which partially covered some of the windows could
claim no great antiquity; yet the general effect of the architectural
grouping was most pleasing, and might well deceive the visitor or
tourist into the supposition that it belonged to a very remote period.
It was, as a matter of fact, the work of Atkinson, who in the first
years of the nineteenth century built Scone, Abbotsford, and Taymouth
Castle.
With loud warning blasts upon the horn, Gabrielle Heyburn pulled up; but
ere she could descend, Walter Murie, a good-looking, dark-haired young
man in grey flannels, and hatless, was outside, hailing her with
delight.
"Hallo, Gabrielle!" he cried cheerily, taking her hand, "what brings you
over this morning, especially when we were told last night that you were
so very ill?"
"The illness has passed," exclaimed young Gellatly, shaking his friend's
hand. "And we're now in search of a lost bracelet--one of Lady
Heyburn's."
"Why, my mother was just going to wire! One of the maids found it in the
boudoir this morning, but we didn't know to whom it belonged. Come
inside. There are a lot of people staying over from last night.
Read more
Parts:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18