A Trumpet Call

By LadyMarian (Copyrighted 2008)

A trumpet seen, long and graceful
Shines through a golden yellow.
It's form and stature is lovely
And a praise it shouts and bellows.

Delicately formed in every way;
It cries out glory to only One.
It is stately and beautiful
Silk and pearls has it none.

It's beauty has none to compare
It's garb is highly sought
It's shade is uncomparable
It's beauty cannot be bought.

It's loveliness is there to see
All can admire this thing
But no honor or praise will it accept
It gives all to it's King.

It's beauty satisfies the thirsty soul
Happiness and joy inside does it fill.
It proclaims a miracle of life
This trumpet of a daffodil

The Sound That Breaks My Heart

By LadyMarian (Copyrighted 2008)

Stirring, ever stirring
It runs up and down
An emotion it's luring
Emotions it drowns

Flowing, ever flowing
Fills you over with joy
It turns you glowing
Sounds you enjoy.

It hurts, ever hurts
It is love strong
Makes you alert
And dream long

It is sweet, ever sweet
It is haunting
You breathe with every beat
It is daunting

It is love, ever love
It lingers on inside
Warm, and fitting as a glove
It will forever abide

It is music, ever music

7 Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1.  Learn more in piano
2.  Visit Europe
3.  Publish a book for children
4. Learn more in guitar
5. Become a wife/mother, Lord willing
6.  Meet all the friends I have not met.
7.  Learn more photography

7 Things I CANNOT Do
1.  Lick my elbow
2.  Speak German
3.  Sing very high
4.  Stop thinking of people as examples for characters
5.  Jig
6.  Love skunks.
7.  Not laugh

7 Things That I Love About My Mom
1.  The way she's there to talk
2.  Her way of teaching
3.  Her share of love over funny period movies
4.  Her forgiveness for all that I do wrong
5. Her helping hand
6.  Her godly knowledge and advice
7.  The way she takes care of us all.

7 Things I Say The Most
1.  "Blast!"
2.  "Where's my pen??"
3.  "WHA??"
4.  "Pull me apart and call me string cheese!!!"
5.  "For Petey's Sake!"
6.  "Whateveh."
7. "You'd better run before I string ya up by ya ears!" (Sibling joke...)

7. Movies I Could Watch Over And Over
1.  Chronicles of Narnia
2.  Pride & Prejudice
3. Wives & Daughters
4. North & South
5. Foyle's War
6.  Batman
7.  The Thin Man series (And tons more, believe me!)

7 Books I Love To Read
1.  Jane of Lantern Hill
2.  Enemy Brothers
3.  North & South
4.  Not My Will
5.  Any thing Jane Austen
6.  The Penderwicks
7.  The Railway Children

7 People I Want To Tag
1. Maideninwaiting
2. Luvhorses
3. Belovedpeace
4. Liveforeternity
5. Luvsdogs07
6. SuperAngel
7. MaidenCapitolaBallot

Emelie

I knew who the murderer was. At least at the time I was nearly sure I knew who the murderer was. I just needed to ask a few subtle questions to be certain. It came to me as I was sitting there in the parlor that afternoon, and when I saw that one piece of paper on the sidetable. I picked it up idly, not even realizing what it was at first. The few words scribbled on it just about froze my blood. And as Mr. Campion and Tom sat there discussing the case, I knew they wouldn’t believe me. Especially Tom. He would never believe me. The only bit I could not understand was the motive. Why on earth would this person kill the Colonel? I had to find out. And on my own. Mr. Campion and Tom were too busy talking to notice me, and I slipped out unnoticed. I hurried down to the village, and searched out the town gossips. I needed facts. It took me well an hour to discover what I wanted to know. And what I discovered didn’t entirely surprise me. But I still could not believe it. It was impossible. I hurried back to the house. I had to confront the murderer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom

When Albert and I finally noticed Emelie was gone, we weren’t at all worried. We simply thought she had grown bored, and run off to do some housekeeping of the sort. Albert, deciding to give his brain a rest, wandered around the house, looking at our family heirlooms. He came back to the parlor shortly, and settled in one of the chairs. I was still seated at the desk, writing down possible motives for each and every one of our suspects. Albert was flipping through some books on the table beside him, when he picked up the most important clue in the entire case.

To me it appeared an ordinary piece of paper, but Albert frowned when he looked at it. Then he jumped to his feet in a surprised manner.

“What is it, old man? A clue?” I hurried to his side. He ignored me, as he stood, pacing back and forth in deep thought.

“Who? Who?” he muttered.

I managed to snatch the paper from his hand, and read the words aloud.

“Whell Quen Dret della avernia.”

I was confused. To me it was just a bunch of gibberish. The scribbles of an absent-minded person.

“What does it mean?” I asked.

“Hmm?” Albert turned to me.

I repeated my question.

“It’s an old kind of code. Used by former criminals. Ah, Lugg!” Albert turned to the man who coughed in the doorway.

“What did you discover?”

“This place is filled t’ high heaven with criminals of all ya can ‘magine! That butler bloke, take ‘im in consideration. ‘e was in Crowneton.”

“I knew it!” Albert crowed loudly.

“Knew what? Our butler is an ex-criminal? That can’t be! He’s been with us for years!”

Lugg sniffed in my direction, “All I know is, ya don’t get yer kind of tongue like whot ‘e has in the countryside! Ain’t whot ‘e says, but ‘ow ‘e says it! ‘e uses Crowneton code too. Even for everyday use.” Here Lugg shook his head in disgust.

Albert was practically gasping with excitement.

“Read this, Lugg, and tell me if it’s what I think it means.”

“Why, blest if it isn’t the Crowneton code!” Lugg exclaimed as he took the paper into his hand.

“Yes, that’s what I thought.”

“’ard to make it out. Spellin’s a bit d’fferent from that I know.”

“But can you make it out?”

“Roughly speaking, it looks like someone’s list of poisons. You see that one underlined” Here Lugg pointed out the word ‘avernia’, which was underlined.

“That one is the drug that was used in the killing.”

“Our butler?” I was stunned.

“No,” Lugg shook his head.

“How do you know?” Albert turned to him.

“’e didn’t ‘ave the chance to put the drug into the Colonel’s pipe. I was with ‘im all the time.”

“Who then? Who has been to Crowneton?” Albert pursed his lips in thought again.

I suddenly remembered something. Something that made me gasp aloud.

Albert whirled towards me, “You know! You know!” He said.

I nodded, choking out the name.

“He was gone last year. There was an accident, and for a year he was gone. His family said he was abroad, but he could have been in Crowneton.”

“I need to know for sure.” Albert hurried to the telephone in the hall, and put through a call to Crowneton prison in London. Quarter of an hour past in breathless tension, as we awaited the answer.

And the answer was in the affirmative.

“We know who did it…” Suddenly Albert stopped. “Where’s Emelie?”

What do you like to think about? Music, story ideas, God's plans for my life...basically whatever's running through my head.

What do your parents think of you?  That it's "sad" that I cried over Robin Hood. :D

What do your friends think of you?  They say I'm "spunky"...in other words, I'm a drama queen. ;-)

What do you think of friends? Kinda hard to say here...they're all different, and I have alot. lol. :D But I loves them all! :D

What word or group of words describes you best? drama queen :-D

What do you like? PIANO MUSIC! :D Writing (mostly mysteries :D), knitting, reading, talking, laughing...

What do you fear? kidnappings

What do you dislike? abortion

What (who) inspires you? many people inspire me: friends, family, acquaintances (I'm a writer! :-P I can find a character in anybody! :-P) Music, books, poetry, movies...:-D

What is something you long for? My visit to a close friend! EEP! Can't wait!!! :-D

What describes you in the morning? slow...lol. It takes me at least five minutes to drag myself out of bed. :-D

What describes you in the afternoon? Busy!!! Work is always busy at 3:30 when kids get out of school.

What describes you in the evening? Usually pretty relaxful. I knit while watching a movie, read, write, go online, chat with friends, talk with the family...:-D

What describes you at night? awake! I can't fall asleep before 10:00...which isn't that late, but still...:-P

What do you think of dating?  I'm generally against it. At least in the world's view. My type of dating would be more along the lines of courtship. I'd only date a guy if marriage was in view for us. :-)

What song describes you best?  I'm not quite sure...:-D

What describes you best on rainy days? A bit antsy sometimes... Still at work. lol. Rain or shine, I work! :-P But if I'm home, then writing. Rain is a good day to write. Of course, any day is a good day to write. :-D Computer work is good too...

What describes you best on sunny days? Bouncy, but busy... I also love doing photography, going out with friends (whenever there's a friend up here...), playing piano....basically whatever I'm in the mood for. :-)

What describes you best on snowy days? Withdrawn...lol....Staying inside with my pen!!! I hate the snow! :-P

What describes you best on windy days? Antsy again! I LOVE the wind, makes me want to jump up and run out into it! :-D

What describes your outlook on life? Sometimes I love it! And sometimes I feel like it's something to struggle through. 

What makes you happy? new sheet music, a good book, dark chocolate, inky pens, a letter, a blank notebook, tea....it doesn't take much to make me happy! :-D

What makes you sad? When friends are struggling, when I feel like God isn't listening....

What makes you mad? abortion....

What do you think of your home? it has alot of character. :-D

What do you hope to be someday? A published author, and a wife and mother. :-)

What gets you hyper? One can of soda. lol. Alot of sugar....loud music. :-D Dancing...

What do you think of yourself? sometimes I'm sure of myself, and sometimes I think, "Is that really me??!"

What describes how you feel right now? a bit rushed...

How do you feel when you listen to music? daydreamy, inspired, happy, sad....music plays with all emotions....

What do you think of your name? I love my name.

What song do you want played at your funeral? no clue

What song do you want played at your wedding? I have several songs I love, but it'll be a decision to make with my future husband.

What song do you listen to before you go to bed? Anything and everything on my ipod. :-D

What makes you tired? not enough sleep.

1.Favorite color-  blue, purple, green

2.Least favorite color- gray

3.Color of pants- light brown

4.Color of shirt- Light Pink

5.Color of favorite CD - blue

6.Color of dream car- blue

7.Color that you want your mom to dye her hair- Its fine the way it is!

8.Color of computer-  silver

9.Color of best friends brother's eyes-  no idea!

10.Color of dream pet – black lab.

11.Color of phone/ipod – My iPod is greenish-blue

12.Color of the last thing you ate – black and white (an oreo)

13.Find what color you answered with the most, then divide it by blue – blue divided by blue?? lol

14.Tag as many people as there are letters in the color. - blue? four people okay....um

maideninwaiting

luvhorses

belovedpeace

SuperAngel

Emelie

            I admit, I was quite furious with Mr. Campion. At least, I thought I was. I believe I really was just scared out of my wits, and let it out under the pretense of anger. I was grateful that Mr. Campion wanted to protect me, but I was also angry that he assumed this right, because he was simply my brother’s friend. Bother it all! Men can be so irritable sometimes!

The police arrived and once Mr. Campion spoke to them, Andrew Randings was taken to the station for questioning. The rest of our party was ordered to stay at our house, until further orders. The body was taken away, and all too soon the night was over. The next morning after breakfast, which no one but Tom and Mr. Campion managed to eat, Tom begged me to make up with Mr. Campion.

“I’m sure you’re being very childish about this!” Tom spoke exasperatedly.

“Why shouldn’t I be childish? Isn’t that what Mr. Campion expects of me? He certainly assumes I have no wits about me!”

“Albert,” Tom interrupted me to speak to Mr. Campion, who stood in the door, looking quite amused. “I’m afraid, she’s past me.” And with those words, Tom grabbed me by the arm, pushed it through Mr. Campion’s and shoved us out the door.

“Now, Emelie, be a good girl, and go down with Albert to the station. He’s going down to talk to the constable, and I know you’re interested.” And he actually bolted the door behind us. And before I could utter any sound, Mr. Campion began to walk down the road, with his arm still through mine. I knew I would not be able to get back in the house, because of Tom, and as I had no where else to go, I simply maintained a stony silence.

Mr. Campion chatted on lightly about this and that. Silly things. Such silly things! It annoyed me more so, and I finally burst out, “Really, Mr. Campion, do you have a serious bone in your body?”

He burst into laughter at me, and I withdrew my arm from his, and proceeded to march down the road. I don’t believe I was ever so angry with anyone in my entire life!

Mr. Campion jogged to catch up with me, and pulled me to a stop.

“Now stop acting so huffy. A frown is not as becoming to your face as smile, though it is rather amusing. Rather childish though.”

“Oh, yes, I know how childish you think me!” I protested.

He grew sober, “Emelie, I was only worried about your safety. I thought telling you would make Mr. Randings advance even further. If he saw how much more you withdrew from his company, I thought he’d strike out at any moment. That is why I didn’t tell you. Now come along, I’ve got to get to the police station.”

And with that he put my arm through his again, and we walked to the station with no more conversation.

At the station, Mr. Campion asked the constable to let him talk to Andrew. When he got his permission, he refused to let me in the room with him. He was in there for quarter of an hour, and came back out looking very much troubled and surprised.

“What is it?” I had to ask.

“He didn’t do it.”

“He didn’t do what?”

“He didn’t kill his father.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom

As soon as Albert and Emelie got back from the station, they broke the news to me that Andrew was not our culprit. It was someone else. Albert looked puzzled, and Emilie simply looked upset. After all, a murderer was still in our midst. But who was it? Albert said he was positive it was one of our guests.

“How do you know for sure it wasn’t Andrew?” I asked, still a bit puzzled.

“When I questioned him, he said he had obtained the scopolamine, merely for the drug use. It’s a cure for motion sickness, and he was supposed to travel later this week on his father’s yacht. He knew the certain gypsy, as simply a drug contact. That is why the gypsies appeared at your house. Not to perform, but to deliver the package. Besides, Andrew’s alibi is sound proof. He did not have a chance to put the poison in his father’s pipe. That is what convinced me entirely. I am ashamed to say, I did not think clearly. He was with someone the entire time while indoors. If you remember, his room adjoins mine, and we had a discussion through our doors while getting dressed for dinner. When I left, he stopped in the hall to talk with his mother, and they came down together.”

Albert ran his fingers through his hair, “I don’t know what to think.”

Emelie pursed her lips in thought, and I was wracking my own brains, trying to find the solution.

“Peter!” she said.

“Yes, that’s what I thought.” Albert said, “But it still doesn’t make sense!”

“Peter?” I asked.

“Peter was the last to appear in the parlor after dinner that night. He claimed to have gone and gotten a cigarette, and then he spent the entire evening roaming the gardens! It has to be him!” Emelie was so sure of herself.

“But?” I turned to Albert.

“But, he has no motive! I thought over all the suspects, and Peter, who has no real alibi, still seems the less likely. He of all people could get nothing out of killing the Colonel.”

Emelie slumped back in her seat. Albert and I continued discussing the case, and so it was that we didn’t notice Emelie when she left.

Tom

            It was all hectic back at the house, when we got back from our walk to the pond. Everyone seemed to making some sort of noise, when we all trooped in. Albert and Emelie got back first, and they were already upstairs, when I found out from father that the Colonel was dead. His wife had gone into the bathroom adjoining their room to prepare for bed. She left her husband all ready for bed, and sitting in the chair, reading. When she came back into the bedroom, he was slumped on the floor. She rushed to his side, but could not find his pulse. As a trained nurse, she tried to revive him, but could not. She gave a scream for help, and roused everyone. When we arrived at the house, she was in hysterics. You’d think a trained nurse would have more control, but it was pretty awful for her, I suppose. Finding your husband dead, is not something you find everyday. Especially when someone pronounces it murder. I found Campion in the Randing’s room, examining the body. Emelie was standing by, watching interestedly, but the poor old girl was shaking. I tried to send her away, but she refused.

“He’s dead then?” I asked.

Albert nodded his head, “ ‘Fraid so. You should alert the police as soon as possible.”

“The police!” Andrew Randing appeared at the door. Albert looked at him sharply,

“Yes,” he said rather calmly, “He’s been murdered.”

“Murdered! Great heavens!” Andrew appeared astounded and sank into a nearby chair.

“How can you tell?” Peter Wilcox and Cathy appeared at the door in time to hear Albert’s last words.

“He has traces of poison on his lips.”

I bent down to see for myself, and sure enough there was some grayish looking specks around the man’s mouth.

“Poisoned!” Emelie exclaimed, and she was soon all in a fluster. “What was it? Something I served at dinner?”

But Albert shook his head, “No, someone put it in his pipe.”

There on the floor beside the body was the Colonel’s pipe, which was still warm.

“You’re saying someone put poison inside his pipe deliberately?” Andrew stood again.

Albert smiled thinly, “Why don’t we all go downstairs to wait for the police. Ah, Lugg, there you are, I was coming to fetch you.”

Albert’s man, Lugg, stood in the hall, his face grave and set.

“Mr. Wilcox, would you be so good as to get Miss Hebert a glass of wine of some sort? She’s looking rather faint. Mr. Randing, please help her down the stairs.” Albert soon shooed the trio out of the bedroom, and it was just Emelie, Lugg, Albert, and I left. As soon as the others were gone, Albert turned to Lugg in a hasty manner.

“Good heavens, Lugg, where were you? Didn’t I say to keep an eye out for something out of the ordinary?”

“Well, ‘ow was I supposed to know it’d ‘cur to this old geezer.” Lugg muttered, jabbing a thumb towards the body.

“Never you mind.” Albert sighed and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.

“You knew this was going to happen?” Emelie sounded furious.

“Well, no, not to the Colonel, but to you, dear lady.” Campion turned towards my sister. She turned completely white, and her voice trembled a bit, “What?”

“Yes, you see, my man, Lugg, here recognized one of your gypsy friends yesterday. Turns out he’s an old criminal buddy, isn’t that right, Lugg?”

“Buddy isn’t a word I would use. A rat. That’s what he is. A rat.” Lugg shook his head and pressed his lips together in disproval.

“All the same, Lugg here knew he wasn’t up to something good. And shortly after he and his pack of fellow gypsies were sent away, Lugg, noticed something oddly peculiar.”

“That’s right. I followed ‘im out of ‘ere. Just to be sure ‘e left, you know. And I saw ‘im…” but Lugg stopped when Albert raised his eyebrows at him. Albert smiled at him,

“Thank-you, Lugg, we won’t be needing you anymore. Perhaps you can help Stevens out with Mrs. Randing?”

Lugg made a face, and left, grumbling.

“As, Lugg was saying, he noticed that your Andrew Randings followed the gypsies, and met in a secluded area with our certain fellow. They exchanged something. As young Randings was always plastered to your side, I guessed you were his target.”

“But how do you know he was targeting anyone? He could’ve been just paying the gypsy a little extra for his performance!” Emelie sputtered.

“Ah, but Lugg had his curiousity aroused, and he followed the certain gypsy, and nabbed him. After much persuasion, the gypsy admitted to giving young Randings some scopolamine. It’s a dangerous drug, of which an overdose is fatal.”

Emelie glared at Campion.

“So you were bound to protect me? You couldn’t warn me? I assure you, I am quite capable of my well-being, Mr. Campion.” She stormed the room, slamming the door behind her.

“She likes you.” I grinned at him, and he grinned back.

“Come along, Tom.”

Emelie

            It was only the next day that the band of gypsies showed up at our door. Our entire party was on the back lawn, watching my dear friend, Cathy, and Peter Wilcox play tennis. I had the hardest time getting Peter to play with Cathy, but I managed to convince him. Of course, I still had Andrew Randing by my side constantly, but Mr. Campion was good enough to distract him with conversation, and I performed my hostess duties to the other guests peacefully. Our conversations had all rather lagged, and so it was that my father instructed Stevens to show the gypsies round the house, when they appeared at our door. The gypsies were performers of sorts, and father did love a good show. They were a dirty, rough bunch, and I was heartily glad at the time to have Stevens and Mr. Campion’s man, Lugg, with us on the lawn.

After a short performance of their arts; tricks, stunts, and the usual sort, father paid the gypsies, and they were sent on their way. I was relieved to see them go. It was shortly after, that we all went in to dress for dinner. I was the first dressed and downstairs, as I had to be sure dinner was set. Mr. Campion came down shortly after me, and found me in the parlor at the piano. I was looking over some music, trying to find something that I could persuade Cathy to play after dinner.

Mr. Campion struck up a lively conversation, and I remember fearing he’d find me rather dull, as I was rather quiet. In short, my thoughts were else where. I had so many duties to look over, and I was anxious about them. Soon the rest of our party came downstairs, and we all went into dinner together. I arranged the table settings especially, so that I would not have to end up next to both Peter Wilcox and Andrew Randing. Peter was on my right and Mr. Campion on my left. It was a delicious meal, and I was pleased with how smoothly everything was going. After dinner, we ladies went to the parlor while the men stayed in the diningroom to discuss politics. It wasn’t long before most of the men joined us. With the exception of Peter Wilcox, but he appeared shortly after with a cigarette. I convinced Cathy to play, and father soon had the bridge table set up, and the cards pulled out. Colonel Randing, father, Mrs. Randing, and Mr. Wilcox were engaged in a game of cards, while I sat with Andrew on the couch, ignoring his prattle, and listening to Cathy play. Peter Wilcox went out into the garden for a walk, and Tom turned the pages for Cathy. Mr. Campion was seated nearby, watching all the goings on. As soon as Andrew got up to get a drink, Mr. Campion sat down next to me on the settee. Andrew didn’t appear too happy with the arrangement, but he made no protest. The evening was spent quietly, and soon after father’s card game was dispense, Mr. Wilcox excused himself, saying as he was immensely tired out he would retire to his room to relax with his pipe before bed. Soon afterwards, father, Colonel and Mrs. Randing all excused themselves, and went upstairs as well. Peter Wilcox joined the rest of us in the parlor, and sat across from me. Cathy played several popular tunes, and we all seemed to be enjoying ourselves. Andrew was still pouting in the corner, but even he couldn’t keep out of our conversation. Tom voted we all hike down to the pond, and get the air. We all readily agreed, and walked out of doors. Mr. Campion took my arm before Andrew or Peter could, and both seemed disappointed, Andrew more so. Tom escorted Cathy, and we all strolled leisurely down to the pond.

“Funny fellow, Mr. Wilcox.” Mr. Campion observed to me, as we lagged a bit behind the others.

“How does he strike you so?” I had to ask.

“He’s obviously struck with you.”

I had to sigh heavily.

“You’re not attracted to him?”

“I suppose I should be,” I replied, “He is handsome, and is bound to inherit an immense fortune. He’s manners are not that dreadful, and I suppose he’s pleasant enough once you get to know him, but…” I trailed off.

“But, he’s so blasted sure of himself?” Mr. Campion looked down at me.

“I would’ve said ‘cocky’.” My mouth quirked up. Mr. Campion smiled back.

 “And why is he sure he’ll catch you?”

I had to shrug, for I really had no idea.

We arrived at the pond, and we all walked around it several times. I was still chatting lightly with Mr. Campion, when we heard a scream, that seemed to come from the house. Everyone stood stock still for a minute or so, except Mr. Campion and I.  Mr. Campion began to jog immediately back towards the house, and I had to go along with him, as I was still holding onto his arm. We arrived first, naturally, to find the entire house in an uproar.

“Father! What’s wrong?” I found my father, dressed in his night clothes, on the stair landing.

“Colonel Randing is dead!”

Working with Campion

By Marian Knightley

Emelie

            It was early in the spring when our…mishap occurred. I was quite adamant in telling my father to wait another year before hosting another house party. Ever since mother died a year before, I had to care for my father. He had become rather absent-minded over the years, and I had taken over the majority of the housekeeping and management. My father was oblivious to everything, and quite used to the idea of my being the one in charge. But he was quite stubborn, as well, in keeping up with certain traditions. Especially our annual house party, and I had to give in.

I sent out the invitations to our close friends. It was only a select few; the Colonel and Mrs. Randings, their son Andrew; and my dear friend Catherine Hebert. There was also our neighbor Mr. Wilcox and his own son, Peter. And of course, there was myself, my father, and my older brother Tom. And I mustn’t forget Tom’s friend, but he only arrived on the second day of our party. Our house parties always lasted about a week or so, and it was on the second day that Tom’s friend arrived. Tom, as was his usual custom, did not remember to tell me that his friend would be coming, and I admit I was very flustered when I ran into the certain gentleman in the entryway. He had just arrived and Stevens, our butler, had shown him in and dashed off to find Tom. I stood at least for a moment, taken aback, and merely surveyed the tall stranger before me. He looked back, seemingly at ease, from behind his round-rimmed glasses. My first thought was that he was not very handsome, which was true. He was not particularly handsome with his sandy-colored hair, his dark eyes, or lean figure.

After the moment of staring, he smiled at me.

“Hullo,” he greeted, “Albert Campion. I’m a friend of Tom’s.” he held out a hand, and I took it. It was warm and firm, as if he was truly glad to meet me.

“Emelie Hardings. I’m Tom’s sister.”

“Charmed,” he flashed another smile that made me smile back.

“Ah, and this,” Mr. Campion turned to the tall, rough sort of looking man, who had just entered the house carrying some baggage, “,is my man, Lugg. Ugly-looking fellow, but a handy one to have around. He used to be a burglar.” Mr. Campion leaned forward and lowered his tone a bit as he spoke his last sentence.

Mr. Lugg nodded at me, “Miss,”

I nodded back. I had to glance at him curiously. A former burglar? What sort of friends did Tom have? I had to wonder.

It was at that moment that Tom decided to finally appear with Stevens close behind.

“Albert!” My brother greeted him enthusiastically, and the pair began to chat affably, as Tom led Mr. Campion into the parlor. Mr. Campion had the goodness to nod at me before following Tom.

Stevens inquired as to where he was to put Mr. Campion, and I had to go back to my hostess duties, and decided which room to give Mr. Campion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom

I was dreadfully glad to see Campion that day when he first popped in. Emelie scolded me later for not giving her warning as to his coming, but I think she seemed to like his looks. Or rather his manners…poor fellow isn’t especially known for his looks.

“Charming girl, your sister. Doesn’t seem to have much of a voice.” Campion said to me, as we settled in the parlor.

“Oh, Emelie’s a great girl. She’s just all strung up about being the perfect hostess and all that.”

“Very pretty.”

“Yes, she’s the beauty of the family. Got the beastly Hardings temper too.” I had to chuckle. “I say, Albert, I’m frightfully glad you’re here. It’ll be so nice to have someone around who can talk some sense!”

Campion raised his eyes inquiringly at me, “Who are in the rest of the party?”

“Ah, well, there’s the old Colonel Randing and his wife, their awful son, Andrew. He and Peter Wilcox are stuck on Emelie, and it’s a blasted job keeping them off her back. They’ll have nothing to with each other either.”

“This Wilcox is here as well?”

“Yes, with his father. He’s an all right sort of chap. Just rather on the unintelligent side. Then there’s Cathy Hebert. She’s a friend of Emelie’s. You can seem them all there, out in the garden.” I pointed out the window to the party in the garden. Emelie was just joining them, and passing around some drinks. I suggested we head out and get a glass of the lemonade ourselves, and Campion readily agreed.

Speak Without a Word

Filled with wonder and delight!
Magic and sunbeams!
I discovered a secret land
Filled with all sorts of merry things grand!
Where a language is spoken differently
Where you speak not by tongue
But with your fingers!
A place where you'll always want to linger.
With this language, you'll see
You can raise up a storm
Set off fireworks
Cause yourself to weep
Or lull a baby to sleep.
The language is soft
And loud beyond all thunder!
It is kind and passionate.
It is loving and compassionate!
It speaks much more than words
Goes beyond what you could think.
To learn, is not burdensome.
You only have to stop and listen.
You have to slow down
Slow and stop.
Stop and listen.
Quiet
Now begin.
Touch it once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Don't you hear?
You're learning! Don't stop!
Tell your story...
Tell your thoughts.
Stroke and unlock the keys
Don't let the remain silent
Play whatever you see.
Discover the language of music.

Copyright belongs to LadyMarian. April 2008. (No stealing, please!)

How d'ya do and shake hands

I'm looking for friends

One and all from all lands

So if you want to be friends

Just speak up and say so

I'll wave and say hello

For I'm not shy in anyway

And will talk on if you'll stay

So helloooo to you all

Who want a friend too!

(Yes, I mean this as a real statement...not just as a silly rhyme. :D)

Black as far as eye can see

Waves rise high as the cliffs be.

Dark mixes with the wave swells

Spraying where the lighthouse dwells.

A tiny beam of light

Strikes a way through the mist

Giving the lost sight

Doing all it can to assist.

A small form works hard all night

Keeping that light always bright.

She is small in size and age

Working away with no praise nor wage.

All alone, but loyal and true

She works on, though the hours tick past

Doing all she can do

Making the oil and wick last.

Sleep is heavy and nigh

Anxiety is also close at hand

But she does not give in, aye!

She will not rest, til all are on land.

I might as well tell a bit about myself...

My real name is a mystery, but you can just call me Marian. :D Marian Knightley is one of the many nom de plumes I use for my writings.

I"m a writer, of sorts. I love writing, as you'll soon find out. :D I'm planning on using this blog mainly for my writings, as I already have a blog for my normal journaling.

Anyways, I love writing stories...mostly historical mysteries. I am particularly interested in WW2.

I would love to be a children's author, and am working on sending away for a course on learning to write for children.

I am eighteen years old, and am very passionate about many things. I love God with my whole heart, and am trying to serve Him...

I am also passionate about music. Particularly playing piano. I've been taking lesson for 10 years now, and have loved nearly every minute of it. :D I also love to knit, read, drink tea, watch period films (the '95 version of "Pride & Prejudice", "Sense & Sensibility", "North & South", "Cranford", "Wives & Daughters", "Emma", "Persuasion", "Northanger Abbey"...) as well as others ("Enchanted", "Nancy Drew", the "Thin Man" series, "National Treasure 1 & 2", "Batman Begins", "Elizabethtown", and many others...).

I'm very outspoken when it comes to my beliefs, and have my own opinions about nearly everything!

I was homeschooled all of my life, though I have graduated now. :)

And, that's all I'll say for now. After all, what's more interesting than to leave some mystery! :P