"Haw, you sir,"
he called out to him; "is this, haw, Mr. Corrothers' plaice?" Coristine
was nettled at the style of address, but commanded himself to reply as
briefly as possible that it was. "Miss Morjorie Cormichael stoying
here?" continued the stage passenger. "Miss Carmichael is here,"
responded the lawyer. "Haw, I thort so. Just you run in now, will you,
ond tell Miss Morjorie thot on old friend wonts to speak to her." The
lawyer was getting furious, in spite of himself. Taking his pipe out of
his pocket, and proceeding to fill it with all apparent deliberation and
calmness, he replied: "So far as I have the honour of Miss Carmichael's
acquaintance, she is not in the habit of receiving visitors out of
doors. There are both bell and knocker on the door before you, which
servants will probably answer; but, if that door doesn't suit you, you
will probably find others at the back." With this ungracious speech, he
turned on his heel, lit his pipe, and puffed vigorously along the path
towards the meadow gate. Then, he strolled down the hill and met the
returning fishers, the two youngest in Mr.
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