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Every individual has his rule could one but find it out and a rule to which there are no exceptions. With Reckage it was simple enough: he invariably followed the line of his own glory. The distress he suffered really, and not colourably took its rise from the intervention of Marshire.
"He was always very kind to me," said this one, that one, and the other. Bradwyn, noting some of these unusual visitors, observed that Reckage had a knack of pleasing the lower classes and half-educated persons generally. He heard a Bible-reader say to the footman: "Take ye heed, watch and pray; for ye know not when the time is!" and he shuddered at this exhibition of bad taste.
But I don't think he is sorry to be rid of Agnes. A regiment of relatives drove him into the engagement. Now it has come to an end let us thank God!" "Your own conscience is easy, I take it?" "You have no right to ask such a question none at all." "Some men, you know, can be laughed out of their loves," he continued. "Timorous men yes! Is Reckage timorous?" "You turned that most adroitly."
It is wise to make peace whilst there is some faint appearance of choice left on the subject, so there is no time to be wasted." "What ought Orange to do?" "Reckage declares that he will not appeal to Rome. There he is well-advised. But as he has already compromised Mrs. Parflete, surely his present scruples are entirely new and unlooked for?
There is an old proverb," he added, with a sneer, "'They are not all friends of the bridegroom who seem to be following the bride." Ullweather was still absorbed in his own meditation. "Marshire," said he, "is the man for us. We might do something with Marshire." "Nevertheless," said Penborough, "I have my eye on Orange." "I say," exclaimed Bradwyn, "be careful. Here is Reckage again.
"As if one could even discuss such a question!" "Mr. Orange is a Roman Catholic," answered Sara, "so he is not disloyal. I am nothing so I have no obligations. Lord Reckage is in public life and has to meet the problems of the age. Don't be narrow, dear Agnes." "I think it too bad, all the same," replied Miss Carillon "even in fun. I am sure I am right."
He traced, too, a certain resemblance between Reckage and that ancestor they both wore pointed red beards, both were fair of skin, both had a dreaming violence in their blue eyes. "You must have some pheasant," said his lordship, at last. "You are eating nothing. And that Burgundy, you know, is unique of its kind. It was a present from the Emperor of the French to mamma.
"Oh, Orange has arrived. He will get no further. Of course, he won that election, but Dizzy managed that. Dizzy is the devil! And then, he is still devoted to Reckage, and, for a man of his supposed shrewdness, I call that a sign of evident weakness." At this, Charles Aumerle, who had been listening with the deepest attention to all that passed, looked straight at the speaker.
"I could almost pray," she exclaimed at last, "that you didn't trust him. Because in spite of himself he must disappoint every one. He is not a deliberate traitor but a born one." As Sara spoke the double doors were thrown open. Lord Reckage was announced. "Beauclerk!" she exclaimed. His lordship, self-absorbed, did not perceive her confusion which she was too young to dissemble perfectly.
He pitied, with benevolence, all other men, and he spent an hour at his solicitor's office, without begrudging the time, or chafing under the fatigue. Two days later Lord Reckage received the following communication from Miss Carillon: This letter will astonish and grieve you. I have written several. None please me. All say too much and yet leave all unsaid.
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