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Opening it, Milvain exclaimed: 'Ha! this is lucky. There's something here that may interest you, Whelpdale. 'Proofs? 'Yes. A paper I have written for The Wayside. He looked at Dora, who smiled. 'How do you like the title? "The Novels of Edwin Reardon!" 'You don't say so! cried the other. 'What a good-hearted fellow you are, Milvain! Now that's really a kind thing to have done. By Jove!
Gradually he had passed from quiet appreciation of the joke to undisguised mirth and pleasure. His utterance of the name 'Mr Fadge' sufficiently intimated that he had some cause of personal discontent with the editor of The Study. 'The author, remarked Milvain, 'ought to make a good thing out of this. 'Will, no doubt.
Milvain looked for a moment terribly apprehensive; she glanced at her niece's face, but read no pity there, whereupon she folded her hands upon a black velvet bag which she carried in an attitude that was almost one of prayer. Whatever divinity she prayed to, if pray she did, at any rate she recovered her dignity in a singular way and faced her niece.
Not very long after this, Amy left the two friends to their pipes; she was anxious that her husband should discuss his affairs privately with Milvain, and give ear to the practical advice which she knew would be tendered him. 'I hear that you are still stuck fast, began Jasper, when they had smoked awhile in silence. 'Yes. 'Getting rather serious, I should fear, isn't it?
'I have scarcely been here half-a-dozen times since I came back to London. 'But you are writing still? 'Oh yes! But I draw upon my genius, and my stores of observation, and the living world. Marian received her vouchers for the volumes, and turned to face Jasper again. There was a smile on her lips. 'The fog is terrible, Milvain went on. 'How do you get home?
Milvain's point of view, was that it made it necessary to sit very close together, and the light was dim compared with that which now poured through three windows upon Katharine and the basket of flowers, and gave even the slight angular figure of Mrs. Milvain herself a halo of gold. "They're from Stogdon House," said Katharine abruptly, with a little jerk of her head. Mrs.
Milvain made a gesture as if to bring her closer, but it was not returned. "We all know how good you are how unselfish how you sacrifice yourself to others. But you've been too unselfish, Katharine. You have made Cassandra happy, and she has taken advantage of your goodness." "I don't understand, Aunt Celia," said Katharine. "What has Cassandra done?"
"You are not going to say these things to Cassandra," said Katharine suddenly. "You've said them to me; that's enough." Katharine spoke so low and with such restraint that Mrs. Milvain had to strain to catch her words, and when she heard them she was dazed by them. "I've made you angry! I knew I should!" she exclaimed.
Milvain had gone over to the enemy. Whether or not the young man understood how relentless the hostility was between Yule and Fadge mattered little; the probability was that he knew all about it. In any case intimate relations with him could not have survived this alliance with Fadge, so that, after all, there had been wisdom in letting the acquaintance lapse.
'Biffen passed you in Tottenham Court Road, he added. 'I didn't see him. 'No; he said you didn't. 'Perhaps, said Amy, 'it was just when I was speaking to Mr Milvain. 'You met Milvain? 'Yes. 'Why didn't you tell me? 'I'm sure I don't know. I can't mention every trifle that happens. 'No, of course not.
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