And the chill winds of winter are sounding thy knell.
THE NEW YEAR’S BELLS.
MERLE’S CRUSADE.
By ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY, Author of “Aunt Diana,” “For Lilias,” etc.
CHAPTER XI.
MARSHLANDS.
e had started by an early train, and arrived at Netherton soon after four. I knew we were to be met at the station, and was not at all surprised when a fresh-coloured, white-haired old gentleman brandished his stick as a token of welcome to Joyce. I was quite sure that it was Squire Cheriton before Joyce clapped her hands and exclaimed, “There’s gran.”
“Halloa, little one,” he said, cheerily, as she ran up to him with a joyous face, “so you have not forgotten grandfather. Bless me, you are not a bit like Vi, you have taken after Alick. So this is the boy, nurse? Dear me! which is the nurse?” looking at me with rather a puzzled countenance.