United States or Togo ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The postman, horn on shoulder, passed them on his way to Priesthope with the papers. Once a man on a horse cantered past across the grass at some distance. Magdalen recognised Wentworth on Conrad. She saw him turn into the bridle path that led to Priesthope. He had then just returned from London. "He is on his way to see Fay," said Magdalen to herself, "and he is actually in a hurry.
Fay was sitting alone in the morning-room at Priesthope, pretending to read, when Michael was announced. When he had been conveyed to a chair and had overcome the breathlessness and semi-blindness that any exertion caused him he saw that she looked ill, and as if she had not slept. "I ought to have come before," he said mechanically, making a great mental effort and putting his hand to his head.
Michael at any rate showed no disinclination to meet Fay again, and even evinced something verging on a desire to see Magdalen. And presently Wentworth arranged to drive him over to luncheon at Priesthope. Throughout life he had always liked to settle, even in the most trivial matters, what Michael should do, with whom he should associate.
She had contracted, not in her first youth, a matrimonial alliance it could hardly be called a marriage with a general, distinguished in India and obscure everywhere else, who had built a villa called "The Towers" a few miles from Priesthope. The marriage had taken place after years of half-gratified reluctance on his part and indomitable crude persistence on hers.
The biscuit dropped onto the road, with a general upheaval of crumbs from all parts of her agitated person. Lord Lossiemouth! Going in the direction of Priesthope! Her letter! She nearly swooned with joy and pride. Now Mary and Algernon, now everyone would believe in her. She raised herself from the heap of stones and with trembling legs hurried towards "The Towers." She must tell Mary at once.
Lady Blore held the tea-pot suspended. "Everard Constable Lossiemouth, I should say is at this moment sitting in the drawing-room at Priesthope, alone with Magdalen." Colonel Bellairs was not disappointed in the effect of his words on his audience. Aunt Aggie trembled and looked proudly guilty. Lady Blore put down the tea-pot suddenly, and said, "Thank God!"
A short one in a large, scrambling, illiterate hand with a signature that might mean anything. That tall capital, shaped like a ham, was perhaps a B. The letter was written on Priesthope notepaper. "My daughter Magdalen." This, then, was from Colonel Bellairs. It was not such a very bad letter, but it was a deplorably unwise one. When had Colonel Bellairs ever indited a wise one!
On this momentous afternoon Magdalen was sitting alone in the morning-room at Priesthope somewhat oppressed by an oncoming cold. It had not yet reached the violent and weeping stage. That was for to-morrow.
"It's much better for you than walking up and down. Why not, if you feel inclined, as you will be alone all day, drive over to Priesthope this afternoon. I said you would come the first day you could. It's only four miles, just an easy little drive." An indefinable change passed over Michael's vacant face at the mention of Priesthope. His eyes became fixed.
If I sit here any longer I shall never get home at all." "Let me take you home on Conrad." Fay hesitated. "I am frightened of horses." "But not of Conrad. He is only an armchair stuffed to look like a horse. And I will lead him." Fay still hesitated. He took an authoritative tone. He must insist on her riding home. She was tired already, and it was a long mile up hill to Priesthope.
Word Of The Day