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    The Right of Way — Volume 05
    The Right of Way — Volume 05
    The Right of Way — Volume 05
    Ebook69 pages1 hour

    The Right of Way — Volume 05

    By Gilbert Parker

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    About this ebook

    Gilbert Parker was a late 19th and early 20th century politician and novelist who wrote prodigiously. The British-Canadian's works are still popular in the 21st century.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKrill Press
    Release dateJan 3, 2016
    ISBN9781518357640
    The Right of Way — Volume 05
    Author

    Gilbert Parker

    Gilbert Parker (1862–1932), also credited as Sir Horatio Gilbert George Parker, 1st Baronet, was a Canadian novelist and British politician. His initial career was in education, working in various schools as a teacher and lecturer. He then traveled abroad to Australia where he became an editor at the Sydney Morning Herald. He expanded his writing to include long-form works such as romance fiction. Some of his most notable titles include Pierre and his People (1892), The Seats of the Mighty and The Battle of the Strong.

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      Book preview

      The Right of Way — Volume 05 - Gilbert Parker

      THE RIGHT OF WAY — VOLUME 05

      ..................

      Gilbert Parker

      YURITA PRESS

      Thank you for reading. In the event that you appreciate this book, please consider sharing the good word(s) by leaving a review, or connect with the author.

      This book is a work of fiction; its contents are wholly imagined.

      All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

      Copyright © 2016 by Gilbert Parker

      Interior design by Pronoun

      Distribution by Pronoun

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      XLI. IT WAS MICHAELMAS DAY XLII. A TRIAL AND A VERDICT XLIII. JO PORTUGAIS TELLS A STORY XLIV. WHO WAS KATHLEEN? XLV. SIX MONTHS GO BY XLVI. THE FORGOTTEN MAN XLVII. ONE WAS TAKEN AND THE OTHER LEFT XLVIII. WHERE THE TREE OF LIFE IS BLOOMING— XLIX. THE OPEN GATE: CHAPTER XLI

      CHAPTER XLII

      CHAPTER XLIII

      CHAPTER XLIV

      CHAPTER XLV

      CHAPTER XLVI

      CHAPTER XLVII

      CHAPTER XLVIII

      CHAPTER XLIX

      The Right of Way — Volume 05

      By

      Gilbert Parker

      The Right of Way — Volume 05

      Published by Yurita Press

      New York City, NY

      First published circa 1932

      Copyright © Yurita Press, 2015

      All rights reserved

      Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      About YURITA Press

      Yurita Press is a boutique publishing company run by people who are passionate about history’s greatest works. We strive to republish the best books ever written across every conceivable genre and making them easily and cheaply available to readers across the world.

      XLI. IT WAS MICHAELMAS DAY XLII. A TRIAL AND A VERDICT XLIII. JO PORTUGAIS TELLS A STORY XLIV. WHO WAS KATHLEEN? XLV. SIX MONTHS GO BY XLVI. THE FORGOTTEN MAN XLVII. ONE WAS TAKEN AND THE OTHER LEFT XLVIII. WHERE THE TREE OF LIFE IS BLOOMING— XLIX. THE OPEN GATE: CHAPTER XLI

      ..................

      NOT A CLOUD IN THE sky, and, ruling all, a sweet sun, liberal in warmth and eager in brightness as its distance from the northern world decreased. As Mrs. Flynn entered the door of the post-office she sang out to Maximilian Cour, with a buoyant lilt: Oh, isn’t it the fun o’ the world to be alive!

      The tailor over the way heard it, and lifted his head with a smile; Rosalie Evanturel, behind the postal wicket, heard it, and her face swam with colour. Rosalie busied herself with the letters and papers for a moment before she answered Mrs. Flynn’s greeting, for there were ringing in her ears the words she herself had said a few days before: It is good to live, isn’t it?

      To-day it was so good to live that life seemed an endless being and a tireless happy doing—a gift of labour, an inspiring daytime, and a rejoicing sleep. Exaltation, a painful joy, and a wide embarrassing wonderment possessed her. She met Mrs. Flynn’s face at the wicket with shining eyes and a timid smile.

      Ah, there y’are, darlin’! said Mrs. Flynn. And how’s the dear father to-day?

      He seems about the same, thank you.

      Ah, that’s foine. Shure, if we could always be ‘about the same,’ we’d do. True for you, darlin’, ‘tis as you say. If ould Mary Flynn could be always bout the same,’ the clods o’ the valley would never cover her bones. But there ‘tis—we’re here to-day, and away tomorrow. Shure, though, I am not complainin’. Not I—not Mary Flynn. Teddy Flynn used to say to me, says he: ‘Niver born to know distress! Happy as worms in a garden av cucumbers. Seventeen years in this country, Mary,’ says he, ‘an’ nivir in the pinitintiary yet.’ There y’are. Ah, the birds do be singin’ to-day! ‘Tis good! ‘Tis good, darlin’! You’ll not mind Mary Flynn callin’ you darlin’, though y’are postmistress, an’ ‘ll be more than that—more than that wan day—or Mary Flynn’s a fool. Aye, more than that y’ll be, darlin’, and y’re eyes like purty brown topazzes and y’re cheeks like roses-shure, is there anny lether for Mary Flynn, darlin’?" she hastily added as she saw the Seigneur standing in the doorway. He had evidently been listening.

      Ye didn’t hear what y’re ould fool of a cook was sayin’, she added to the Seigneur, as Rosalie shook her head and answered: No letters, Madame—dear. Rosalie timidly added the dear, for there was something so great-hearted in Mrs. Flynn that she longed to clasp her round the neck, longed as she had never done in her life to lay her head upon some motherly breast and pour out her heart. But it was not to be now. Secrecy was her duty still.

      "Can’t ye speak to y’re ould

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