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Perhaps she got there in time to dress for dinner, perhaps not. Wearers of uniforms wash and brush up: they don't dress. She reappeared at Mrs. Marrable's cottage two days later, in the same vehicle, accompanied by the Countess her aunt, who remained therein.
Her effort to do so, had it succeeded, would have made a complete disclosure almost inevitable, owing to the peculiarity of Granny Marrable's first husband's name. "I ought to be able to recollect, but there! I can't. I suppose it would be because we always heard her spoken of as Mrs. Marrable's Ruth.
"That was Thrale's story?" "Thrale's story." "He must have known." "Oh, he knew!" "What is old Mrs. Marrable's Christian name?" "I believe she was always called Phoebe. Her first married name was a very unusual one, Cropredy." "And Widow Thrale's?" "Ruth Keziah Solmes calls her, I think." His lordship made no reply; and, indeed, said never a word until he released Mr.
Whereupon Gwen, seeing how much hung upon the impression her lover had been under hitherto about these two tints of hair, kept down a growing excitement to ask him quietly for an exact, undisjointed statement, and got this for answer: "I have always thought of Granny Marrable's as snow-white, and the old Australian's as grey. Was that wrong?" "Quite wrong! It's the other way round.
"You speak of the man who is to be your husband as though your greatest happiness in life were to keep away from him." Mary Lowther had not dared to answer that such would be her greatest happiness. Then news had reached the vicarage of the illness of Gregory Marrable, and of Walter Marrable's presence at Dunripple.
You give me your word your word afore God and the Bible not to split upon me to one other soul but the old woman herself, and I'll give you a free ticket to say whatever you please to her when no one else is eavesdropping. Afore God and the Bible!" Granny Marrable's fear of him began to revive. He might be mad after all, with that manner on him, although his tale about Mrs.
What wonder that old Maisie accepted Granny Marrable's Christian name as the same as her own. "My name is the same as your mother's, then!" seemed worth saying, on the whole, though it put nothing very uncommon on record. How near the spark was to the tinder! how loud that Angel would have had to play! For Ruth Thrale might easily have chanced to say: "Yes, the same that my mother's was."
She never talks about herself, and is too silent to be questioned. I do not, however, doubt for a moment but that she will be Walter Marrable's wife. I think it likely that they are not engaged as yet, as in that case I think Mrs. Brownlow would tell me; but many things have been said which leave on my mind a conviction that it will be so.
"You see, my dear," said the old lady, "if I was to see Farmer Jones's Bull, I could tell the dear child about him in London. Isn't that a Bull?" But it wasn't, though possibly a relation he would not have acknowledged. "I think Blencorn might make a point of Farmer Jones's Bull," said Gwen. "Blencorn!" "Yes, my lady." "I want to stop at Strides Cottage, coming back. You know Mrs. Marrable's!"
Marrable's sister, and each has falsely thought the other dead for a lifetime"? All her elaborate preparation had ended in an impasse, blocked by a dead wall whose removal was only possible to the bluntest declaration of the truth, almost more cruel now than it would have been before this factitious abatement of the agitation in which Gwen had found her.
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