The Man from Glengarry: A Tale of the OttawaConnor, Ralph
History
The Man from Glengarry: A Tale of the Ottawa
Connor, Ralph
Canada -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Christian fiction; Glengarry (Ont.) -- Fiction
He stood a moment or two as if about to speak, while Maimie waited in
an agony of fear, not knowing what to expect in this extraordinary young
man. Then he turned abruptly away, and with a good night to De Lacy and
a nod to Mr. Sims, strode from the room.
“Great Caesar's ghost!” exclaimed the lieutenant; “pardon me, but has
anything happened? That young man now and then gives me a sense of
tragedy. What HAS taken place?” he panted, weakly.
“Nonsense,” laughed Maimie, “your nervous system is rather delicate.”
“Ah, thanks, no doubt that's it. Miss Kate, how do you feel?”
“I,” said Kate, waking suddenly, “thank you, quite happy.”
“Happy,” sighed De Lacy. “Ah, fortunate young man!”
“Great chap, that,” cried Harry, coming back from seeing Ranald to the
door.
“Very,” said De Lacy, so emphatically that every one laughed.
“Some one really ought to dress him, though,” suggested Mr. Sims, with a
slight sneer.
“Why?” said Kate, quietly, facing him.
“Oh, well, you know, Miss Raymond,” stammered Mr. Sims, “that sort of
attire, you know, is hardly the thing for the drawing-room, you know.”
“He is a shantyman,” said Maimie, apologetically, “and they all dress
like that. I don't suppose that he has any other clothes with him.”
“Oh, of course,” assented Mr. Sims, retreating before this double
attack.
“Besides,” continued Kate, “it is good taste to dress in the garb of
your profession, isn't it, Lieutenant De Lacy?”
“Oh, come now, Miss Kate, that's all right,” said the lieutenant, “but
you must draw the line somewhere, you know. Those colors now you must
confess are a little startling.”
“You didn't mind the colors when he saved you the other day from that
awful mob!”
“One for you, De Lacy,” cried Harry.
“Quite right,” answered the lieutenant, “but don't mistake me. I
distinguish between a fellow and his clothes.”
“For my part,” said Kate, “I don't care how a man is dressed; if I like
him, I like him should he appear in a blanket and feathers.”
“Don't speak of it,” gasped the lieutenant.
“Do let's talk of something else,” said Maimie, impatiently.
“Delighted, I am sure,” said De Lacy; “and that reminds me that madam
was thinking of a picnic down the river this week--just a small company,
you know. The man would drive her down and take the hamper and things,
and we would go down by boat. Awful pull back, though,” he added,
regretfully, “but if it should give any pleasure--delighted, you know,”
bowing gallantly to the ladies.
“Delightful!” cried Maimie.
“And Ranald pulls splendidly,” said Kate.
Maimie looked at her, wondering how she knew that. “I don't think Ranald
can get away every day. I'm sure he can't; can he, Harry?” she said.
“No,” said Harry, “no more can I, worse luck! The governor is sticking
awfully close to work just now.”
“And, of course, you can't be spared,” said Kate, mockingly. “But
couldn't you both come later? We could wait tea for you.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account