The Blue Lagoon: A Romance
of the library reading a book. Kilgobbin Park lay outside with the rooks cawing in the trees, miles of park
k panelling of the room, the book backs, and the long-nosed face of Sir Nicholas Berknowles "att
hair was of the right red, worn in a tail-she was only fifteen-so long that she could bite the end with ease
now, unable to read any more by the light from the window, she came to the fire, curled herself on
shaped head! It was not the face and head of a Berknowles as you could easily have per
Mascarenes, red hair and a wild spirit that brooked no contradiction and knew no fear. Phyl had inherited something of this restless and daring spirit. She had run away from the Rottingdean Academy for the Daughters of the Nobility and Gentry wh
ountry life to bother much about the small affair of his daughter's future and education. He accepted her rejection of his plans, wrote a letter of apology to the Rottingdean Academy, a
Arranakilty, a man profoundly versed in the habits of rodents and birds, Larry the groom
ainst restraint. Not at all. She was a most lovable and clinging person, when she could get hold of anything worth clinging to, with a mellifluous Irish voice at once soothing and distracting, a voic
beat Legrand, when, laying the book down beside her on the hearthrug, s
g, hearty man who had gone to America only eight weeks ago and who would never r
to be killed like that, or what she had done to deserve such misery. The Reverend Peter Graham of Arranakilty could explain nothing about the matter to her understanding. She nearly die
at the old fellow was saying; books began to appeal to her again and the old life to run anew in a crippled sort of way. Then other things happened.
and that the will was being brought over from the States by
essey. "He said it was by your father's request he was coming, but it's a long jou
one and an antagonism to Mr. Pinckney
this man was coming to make some alteration in her way of life. She did not want any change, she wanted to go on living just as she
me down that morning from Dublin to receive M
the act of picking up her book when the
l to sit easy and not disturb herself. Then, as he held a big foot to the warmth he talked down at the g
id I to him, 'and what's that head of yours made of?' The stoves are all o
e a bit careless, but he never does forget to feed the animals. He's got the chickens to look after, too, and the
t with them again. Her voice became tinged with melancholy and Hennessey changed the sub
with a kind heart who would have come to financi
he, taking out his watch and looking at it
like, do you th
unts they are sharp business men, but I daresay he is all right. The thing that gets me is his coming over. Americans don't go thousands of
of ours," said Phyl. "Father
er's side," s
all those people over there and wondered what they were like and how they lived-my
es are all gone long ago. They used to have sugar pla
ther's people-Oh, if one could only see back, see all the people th
lers in Athlone and he was content to let them lie without
s silence, "suppose Father has left Mr. Pin
nnessey; "but what's been putt
set me on, I suppose, but I dreamed last night Mr. Pinckney came and he was an American with a beard like Uncle Sam in Punch last week, and he said Fath
. "A man can't leave his daughter away from him, though I'm half
venue. Then the crash of wheels on gravel came from outside and h
aid the easy-sp