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"I don't believe it," said she; and she added, with emphasis: "And, anyhow, I hate that nasty trollop!" "Ah, but you do believe it." Mrs. Pendomer's voice was insistent. "You knew it years before you went into long frocks. That knowledge is, I suppose, a legacy from our mothers." Patricia frowned, petulantly, and then burst into choking sobs. "Oh!" she cried, "it's damnable!
Patricia clearly perceived that, whatever had been her husband's relations with this woman, he had been manifestly entrapped into the imbroglio a victim to Mrs. Pendomer's inordinate love of attention, which was, indeed, tolerably notorious; and Patricia's anger against Rudolph Musgrave gave way to a rather contemptuous pity and a half-maternal remorse for not having taken better care of him.
Pendomer's rather frequently nowadays; but, then, Clarice Pendomer had all sorts of callers now though not many in skirts and she played poker with men for money until unregenerate hours of the night, and was reputed with a wealth of corroborative detail to have even less discussable sources of income: so that, indeed, Clarice Pendomer was now rather precariously retained within the social pale through her initial precaution of having been born a Bellingham.... But all such tittle-tattle, as has been said, is quite beside the mark, since with the decadence of Clarice Pendomer this chronicle has, in the outcome, as scant concern as with the marital aspirations of Cousin Lucy Fentnor.
Pendomer looked about her; and, without, the clean-shaven lawns and trim box-hedges were very beautiful in the morning sunlight; within, the same sunlight sparkled over the heavy breakfast service, and gleamed in the high walnut panels of the breakfast-room. She viewed the comfortable appointments about her a little wistfully, for Mrs. Pendomer's purse was not over-full.
He doesn't, not a bit. No, Harry Pendomer is the puniest black-haired little wretch, whereas your other son, sir, resembles his mother and is in consequence a ravishingly beautiful person of superlative charm " He was staring at her so oddly that she paused. So Patricia was familiar with that old scandal which linked his name with Clarice Pendomer's!
"Why !" Colonel Musgrave pulled up short, hardly seeing his way clear through the indignant periods on which he had entered. "I declined," said he, somewhat lamely, "to discuss the matter with her, in her present excited and perfectly unreasonable condition." Mrs. Pendomer's penciled eyebrows rose, and her lips which were quite as red as there was any necessity for their being twitched.
Mrs. Pendomer's foot tapped the floor whilst he spoke. When he had made an ending, she inclined her head toward him. "Thank you!" said Mrs. Pendomer. Colonel Musgrave bit his lip; and he flushed. "That," said he, hastily, "was different." But the difference, whatever may have been its nature, was seemingly a matter of unimportance to Mrs. Pendomer, who was in meditation.
Pendomer smiled, as though she considered this not improbable; and he continued, with growing embarrassment and indignation: "She says there must have been others" Mrs. Pendomer's smile grew reminiscent "any number of others; that she is only an incident in my life.
Pendomer's correspondence and home life were at times of an interesting nature. "I had destroyed the envelopes when she returned them," continued Colonel Musgrave, with morose confusion of persons. "Patricia doesn't even know who the girl was her name, somehow, was not mentioned." "'Woman of my heart' 'Dearest girl in all the world," quoted Mrs.
The boy had gone to her complaisantly, and she stood now with one hand on either of his shoulders, regarding him. Her lips were parted, but they did not move at all. "You are Mrs. Pendomer's boy, aren't you?" said Anne Charteris, in a while. She had some difficulty in articulation. "Yes'm," Harry assented, "and we come here 'most every Wednesday, and, please, ma'am, you're hurtin' me."
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