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       Archibald Marshall

      The Squire's Daughter: Being the First Book in the Chronicles of the Clintons

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066130794

       CHAPTER I

       A COURT BALL

       CHAPTER II

       IN THE BAY OF BISCAY

       CHAPTER III

       THE CLINTONS OF KENCOTE

       CHAPTER IV

       CLINTONS YOUNG AND OLD

       CHAPTER V

       MELBURY PARK

       CHAPTER VI

       A GOOD LONG TALK

       CHAPTER VII

       THE RECTOR

       CHAPTER VIII

       BY THE LAKE

       CHAPTER IX

       THE QUESTION OF MARRIAGE

       CHAPTER X

       TOWN versus COUNTRY

       CHAPTER XI

       A WEDDING

       CHAPTER XII

       FOOD AND RAIMENT

       CHAPTER XIII

       RONALD MACKENZIE

       CHAPTER XIV

       THE PLUNGE

       CHAPTER XV

       BLOOMSBURY

       CHAPTER XVI

       THE PURSUIT

       CHAPTER XVII

       THE CONTEST

       CHAPTER XVIII

       AFTER THE STORM

       CHAPTER XIX

       THE WHOLE HOUSE UPSET

       CHAPTER XX

       MRS. CLINTON

       CHAPTER XXI

       CICELY'S RETURN

       CHAPTER XXII

       THE LIFE

       CHRONICLES OF THE CLINTONS

       BY ARCHIBALD MARSHALL

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      "I recollect the time," said the Squire, "when two women going to a ball were a big enough load for any carriage. You may say what you like about crinolines, but I've seen some very pretty women in them in my time."

      There were three people in the carriage passing slowly up the Mall in the string, with little jerks and progressions. They were the Squire himself, Mrs. Clinton, and Cicely, and they were on their way to a Court Ball.

      The Squire, big, florid, his reddish beard touched with grey falling over the red and gold of his Deputy-Lieutenant's uniform, sat back comfortably beside his wife, who was dressed in pale lavender silk, with diamonds in her smooth, grey-yellow hair. She was short and rather plump. Her grey eyes, looking out on the violet of the night sky, the trees, and the crowd of hilarious onlookers who had not been invited to Buckingham Palace, had a patient and slightly wistful expression.

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