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Warner, Charles Dudley, 1829-1900

"The Complete Project Gutenberg Writings of Charles Dudley Warner"

These bridges were shaky and wanted a plank at
intervals, but they are in keeping with the enterprise of the
country. As dusk came on, we crossed the last hill, and were bowling
along by the still gleaming water. Lights began to appear in
infrequent farmhouses, and under cover of the gathering night the
houses seemed to be stately mansions; and we fancied we were on a
noble highway, lined with elegant suburban seaside residences, and
about to drive into a town of wealth and a port of great commerce.
We were, nevertheless, anxious about Baddeck. What sort of haven
were we to reach after our heroic (with the reader's permission) week
of travel? Would the hotel be like that at Plaster Cove? Were our
thirty-six hours of sleepless staging to terminate in a night of
misery and a Sunday of discomfort?
We came into a straggling village; that we could see by the
starlight. But we stopped at the door of a very unhotel-like
appearing hotel. It had in front a flower-garden; it was blazing
with welcome lights; it opened hospitable doors, and we were received
by a family who expected us. The house was a large one, for two
guests; and we enjoyed the luxury of spacious rooms, an abundant
supper, and a friendly welcome; and, in short, found ourselves at
home.


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