- Heida: A Shepherd at the Edge of the World
- The Solitary Farm by Fergus Hume
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- High N Dry (Saturday Night).
- The Solitary Farm!
- Elephant Park (Running From the Paranoids Book 3)!
- The Solitary Farm by Fergus Hume;
- Heida: A Shepherd at the Edge of the World!
Evelyn Waugh. Darin Strauss. The Darker Sex. Mike Ashley. John Diamond. Austin Freeman. Dear Dead Woman. Sergeant Verity and the Swell Mob. Francis Selwyn. The History of Mr Polly. John Sutherland. Bennett and Mrs. Virginia Woolf. Amos Petrie's Puzzle. John Galsworthy. Death Burns the Candle. Mist on the Saltings. Henry Wade. The Contents of the Coffin. Extremely Entertaining Short Stories. Dialstone Lane. Nightmare Detective Club Crime Classics. Lynn Brock. Death Must Have Laughed. Various Authors. Ernest Bramah.
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- Heida: A Shepherd at the Edge of the World | Immaterial Agents.
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- Mosiah: Salvation Only through Christ (Book of Mormon Symposium Series);
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- Ecological Rationality: Intelligence in the World (Evolution and Cognition).
The Absence of Mr. Tim Selvadurai. The Patagonia Henry James. James Henry. Murder Has No Tongue. The Carbuncle Clue. Fergus Hume. British Mystery Multipack. Richard Harding Davis. The 4 p. Edgar Allan Poe. A Midnight Mystery. The Opal Serpent. The Girl from Malta. Murder in the Fog. A Woman's Burden. For the Defence. The Chinese Jar. The Millionaire Mystery.grupoavigase.com/includes/398/6074-planes-para.php
Heida: A Shepherd at the Edge of the World
The Clock Struck One. The Lone Inn. The Curse. A Son of Perdition. The Yellow Hunchback. A Creature of the Night. The Bishop's Secret. The Wooden Hand. The Disappearing Eye.
Works of Fergus Hume. The Green Mummy. The Lonely Church. Ghostly Winter Tales. Black Heath Editions. The Yellow Holly. The Lady from Nowhere. A Traitor in London. The Island of Fantasy: A Romance. The Red Window. The Black Patch. The Peacock of Jewels. The Purple Fern. The Crimson Cryptogram. The Gentleman Who Vanished. Monsieur Judas. The Sacred Herb. The White Prior. The Lone Inn: A Mystery. The Mikado Jewel. The Mystery of Landy Court. The Crowned Skull. The Gates of Dawn. Hagar of the Pawn Shop. The Pagan's Cup. The Piccadilly Puzzle. The White Room.
The Caravan Mystery. The Turnpike House. The Vanishing of Tera. The Crime of the 'Liza Jane. The Spider. The Sealed Message. Tracked by a Tattoo: A Mystery. The Mystery Queen.
The Solitary Farm by Fergus Hume
The Black Carnation. The Rainbow Feather. The Third Volume. In Queer Street. The Red Bicycle. The Silver Bullet. The Amethyst Cross. The Indian Bangle. The Pink Shop. The Fever of Life. The Man with a Secret. Fergus Hume: The Complete Works. The Red-headed Man. The Black Image. The Solitary Farm. The Silent House. Hagar of the Pawn-Shop. The Mandarin's Fan. How to write a great review. The review must be at least 50 characters long. The title should be at least 4 characters long.
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Had she been more versed in worldly wisdom she would have accompanied her aunt to see the solicitor for herself, so that she might learn what disposition had been made of the property. But Bella was an unsophisticated girl, and moreover was so anxiously lamenting the continued absence of Cyril that she neglected needful things. Lister had disappeared from the neighbourhood, and Bella had neither seen him again nor had she heard from him. Considering what had taken place at their last interview, she was inclined to think that Cyril had passed out of her life for ever.
But something told her that in spite of her unjust accusations he still loved her, and would return. Meantime, there was nothing for it but to wait in patience, and to busy herself with her ordinary pursuits. These, however, had lost their savour for the girl, since the whole of her mind was filled with the image of the man she loved. Pence did not fulfil his threat of informing the police at the end of three days.
Bella waited in dread for the arrival of Inspector Inglis to ask her questions concerning Lister, but the officer never appeared, and as the days glided by she began to think that Silas would say nothing. With her aunt she went on Sunday to the Little Bethel, and heard him preach, but he did not seek a private interview with her. Even when he delivered his sermons he sedulously avoided her eye, so she deemed that he was ashamed of the wild way in which he had talked. What struck her most about the young man was his wan looks.
He seemed to be thinner than ever, and his cheeks had a more hectic flush, while his eyes glittered feverishly, as though he were consumed with an inward fire. But his discourses became more and more powerful and were greatly admired by his congregation, who liked melodramatic religion. Coppersley was especially loud in her expression of approval. Pence has not the spirit of His preaching. Pence does not do as he would be done by. I wonder how he would like to suffer the condemnation which he measures out so freely to other people.
Coppersley fervently, and bounced into the house. Coppersley violently, for she felt somewhat nervous as to what she was about to say, "my house. I didn't tell you before, as I have a kind heart, but it is time we understood one another. To-night I shall explain myself, so that you may understand your position. Vand is coming to dinner twenty times over," said Bella, her eyes growing hard with anger. You know that Jane never can cook to Henry's liking. I daresay the meat is burnt and the——" Mrs.
Coppersley was about to pass into the scullery where the one small servant, over whom she tyrannised, slaved at the mid-day meal, when Bella caught her by the wrist. This house is either mine or yours. Coppersley, bouncing towards the kitchen door, "If you will have it, you shall have it. I have tried to spare you, but——".
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Coppersley, and rolled towards the drawing-room. Coppersley's way of walking, for she was an extremely stout, well-fed woman, large-limbed and clumsy. Her round, chubby face was rosy and her eyes were as black as her hair. She did not look uncomely, but there was something coarse and plebeian in her appearance. Although she was in mourning for her late brother she could not altogether restrain her flamboyant taste, and therefore wore a red feather in the hat she had left in the kitchen, and yellow gloves, which she was now impatiently removing.
Outside it was extremely warm and brilliant with sunshine, but in the vast drawing-room the air was pleasantly cool and agreeable. The blinds being blue, only a faint light came through them since they were down, and the cerulean atmosphere was almost religious in its feeling. Bella, ever sensitive to the unseen, in spite of her ignorance of psychic phenomenon felt the grave influence, but her aunt, being of a coarser fibre, bounced red-faced and hot into the room, openly cross at having been summoned to what was likely to prove a disagreeable interview. However, we need converse only for a few minutes.
I understood you to say that this house is yours, Aunt Rosamund. Coppersley flopped down into one of the emerald arm-chairs and placed her pudgy hands on her stout knees. Bella grew pale. Coppersley spoke with such conviction that she believed her to be telling the truth. Coppersley, in a matter-of-fact way. Bella passed over this petty speech.
Coppersley, with an air of triumph. When my late husband died he left me a good sum. Jabez borrowed this and added it to his own, so that he might buy Bleacres.
I agreed, but only on condition that Jabez should leave me the whole property when he died. I saw that the will was made, and Mr. Timson, the Cade Lane lawyer, is now proving it. When probate is obtained, my dear," ended Mrs. Coppersley amiably, "I shall marry Henry and will be happy for evermore. Coppersley coldly, "as I am a Christian woman, and wish to obey Jabez's request. He left you to me as a legacy, so I will look after you; only behave yourself. Coppersley rose, also in a violent rage and quite glad to vent her petty spite on one who could not retaliate.
In one way or another you have persuaded my father into leaving you what is rightfully mine. But I shall see Mr. Timson, and read the will; you shall not have it your own way altogether. Coppersley snapped her large finger and thumb. I have a perfect right to the farm, as my money helped to buy it. Coppersley violently, "and the will is plain enough.
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Jabez did right to leave the money to me, and not to a chit of a girl like you, who would waste your father's hard-earned money on that wastrel from London. I mean Mr. Lister, as he calls himself, though I daresay he is no better than he should be. Remember I am mistress; and as you depend entirely on me, miss, I order you to give up all idea of this Lister scamp and marry Silas Pence, who is——".
Coppersley stamped and interrupted in her turn. This house is mine, and the food you eat is mine.
- Catalog Record: The solitary farm | HathiTrust Digital Library.
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- Catalog Record: The solitary farm | HathiTrust Digital Library;
If I turned you out you would have to starve, for I am certain that your fine lover would have nothing to do with you. He's a bad man; your father said so. Coppersley pointed a fat finger towards the round table in the centre of the room—"there's a photograph of him, and in a silver frame, too. What extravagance. How dare you spend my money on silver frames? She dashed forward to seize the photograph of Cyril, which Bella had brought down from her bedroom and had left unthinkingly on the table. Doubtless Mrs. Coppersley would have destroyed the portrait, but that Bella secured it before the good lady could reach the table.
Lister gave me this," said Bella, putting it behind her back; "frame and all; it is mine. Coppersley, her red face shining with perspiration and her little eyes flashing with wrath. Lister is not a profligate, Aunt Rosamund, and you are a bad woman! Coppersley gasped like a dying dolphin. And I'd have you know, Bella, that I'm a lady and no woman, miss—so there.