Whats Bred In The Bone

What's Bred In the Bone

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Title: What's Bred In the Bone
Author: Grant Allen
Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6010] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on October 16, 2002]
Edition: 10

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, WHAT'S
BRED IN THE BONE ***

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Proofreading Team.

WHAT'S BRED IN THE BONE.
L1000 PRIZE NOVEL.
By GRANT ALLEN

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER
I. ELMA'S STRANGER II. TWO'S COMPANY III. CYRIL
WARING'S BROTHER IV. INSIDE THE TUNNEL V. GRATITUDE
VI. TWO STRANGE MEETINGS VII. KELMSCOTT OF TILGATE
VIII. ELMA BREAKS OUT IX. AND AFTER? X. COLONEL
KELMSCOTT'S REPENTANCE XI. A FAMILY JAR XII. IN
SILENCE AND TEARS XIII. BUSINESS FIRST XIV. MUSIC
HATH POWER XV. THE PATH OF DUTY XVI. STRUGGLE AND
VICTORY XVII. VISIONS OF WEALTH XVIII. GENTLE WOOER
XIX. SELF OR BEARER XX. MONTAGUE NEVITT FINESSES
XXI. COLONEL KELMSCOTT'S PUNISHMENT XXII. CROSS
PURPOSES XXIII. GUY IN LUCK XXIV. A SLIGHT
MISUNDERSTANDING XXV. LEAD TRUMPS XXVI. A CHANCE
MEETING XXVII. SOMETHING TO THEIR ADVANTAGE XXVIII.
MISTAKEN IDENTITY XXIX. WOMAN'S INTUITION XXX.
FRESH DISCOVERIES XXXI. "GOLDEN JOYS" XXXII. A NEW
DEPARTURE XXXIII. TIME FLIES XXXIV. A STROKE FOR
FREEDOM XXXV. PERILS BY THE WAY XXXVI. DESERTED
XXXVII. AUX ARMES! XXXVIII. NEWS FROM THE CAPE

XXXIX. A GLEAM OF LIGHT XL. THE BOLT FALLS XLI. WHAT
JUDGE? XLII. UNEXPECTED EVIDENCE XLIII. SIR GILBERT'S
TEMPTATION XLIV. AT BAY XLV. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS
WELL

CHAPTER I.
ELMA'S STRANGER.

It was late when Elma reached the station. Her pony had jibbed on the
way downhill, and the train was just on the point of moving off as she
hurried upon the platform. Old Matthews, the stout and
chubby-cheeked station-master, seized her most unceremoniously by
the left arm, and bundled her into a carriage. He had known her from a
child, so he could venture upon such liberties.
"Second class, miss? Yes, miss. Here y'are. Look sharp, please. Any
more goin' on? All right, Tom! Go ahead there!" And lifting his left
hand, he whistled a shrill signal to the guard to start her.
As for Elma, somewhat hot in the face with the wild rush for her ticket,
and grasping her uncounted change, pence and all, in her little gloved
hand, she found herself thrust, hap-hazard, at the very last moment, into
the last compartment of the last carriage --alone--with an artist.
Now, you and I, to be sure, most proverbially courteous and intelligent
reader, might never have guessed at first sight, from the young man's
outer aspect, the nature of his occupation. The gross and clumsy male
intellect, which works in accordance with the stupid laws of inductive
logic, has a queer habit of requiring something or other, in the way of
definite evidence, before it commits itself offhand to the distinct
conclusion. But Elma Clifford was a woman; and therefore she knew a
more excellent way. HER habit was, rather to look things once fairly
and squarely in the face, and then, with the unerring intuition of her sex,
to make up her mind about them firmly, at once and for ever. That's one
of the many glorious advantages of being born a woman. You don't
need to learn in order to know. You know instinctively. And yet our

girls want to go to Girton, and train themselves up to be senior
wranglers!
Elma Clifford, however, had NOT been to Girton, so, as she stumbled
into her place, she snatched one hurried look at Cyril Wiring's face, and
knew at a glance he was a landscape painter.
Now, this was clever of her, even in a woman, for Cyril Waring, as he
fondly imagined, was travelling that line that day disguised as a