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The Countess of Ancester was mistaken when she said to Gwen's mother that that young lady was sure to cool down, as other young ladies, noteworthily her own mother's daughter, had done under like circumstances.
Prichard, upstairs at No. 7, down Sapps Court, should become the guest of the Earl and Countess of Ancester, at The Towers in Rocestershire. But a number of improbable antecedent events combined to make it possible, and once its possibility was established, it only needed one more good substantial improbability to make it actual. Gwen's individuality was more than enough to supply this.
Gwen made your son's acquaintance under peculiar circumstances romantic circumstances and, as I know, instantly saw that his eyesight might be destroyed and that the blame would rest with her family...." "No, L-Lady Ancester" he stumbled somehow over the name, for no apparent reason "I deny that. I protest against it...." "We need not settle that point. Your feeling is a generous one.
He had followed his quarry to Grantley Thorpe, arriving by an early train, to find that a man answering to his description had started on foot a couple of hours previously, having asked his way to Ancester Towers.
Achilles talked to me all the way down the street about that kitten." "I want to know what happened next." From Gwen. "Yes silly old chatterbox! keep to the point." Thus Irene; and Lady Ancester, who has been accepting the hare and the cats with dignity, even condescension, adds: "We were just at the most interesting part of the story."
It was at dessert, and papa was quite loquacious, for him in his best form, saying: 'Niggers, niggers, niggers! What does that blessed Duchess of Sutherland want to liberate niggers for? Much better wollop 'em! The Duchess was, he said, an hysterical female. Mamma was unmoved and superior. Perhaps papa would call Lady Ancester hysterical, too. She was at Stafford House, and was most enthusiastic.
Prichard personally? Only just seen her was that it? She must be gone very grey by now; why she was going that way when he saw her last, years ago. He never said how many years. He couldn't say her age to a nicety, but she must be well on towards eighty. However did she come to be at the country seat of the great Earl of Ancester? that was what puzzled him. Mrs.
"It wasn't a new dress," says Gwen, "as far as I remember." A point her maid would know more about, clearly. Lady Ancester seems to think a little ex post facto chaperonage would not be inappropriate. "Gwen was out of bounds, I understand," she says; which means absolutely nothing, but sounds well.
When the Earl of Ancester came back to the Towers next day he certainly did look a little boiled down; otherwise, cheerful and collected. "I am quite prepared to endure another Christmas," said he resignedly to Gwen. "But a little seclusion and meditation is good to prepare one for the ordeal, and Bath certainly deserves the character everybody gives it, that you never meet anybody else there.
He did not move, but said: "I suppose I ought to be thinking of turning in now, Mrs. Bailey?" "It isn't Mrs. Bailey," said the Earl. "It's me. Gwen's father." "God bless my soul!" exclaimed Adrian, starting back from the window. "I thought it was the good creature. I had given you up, Lord Ancester it got so late."
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