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"Well, then," Gammon persisted, "who is to let them know that Mrs. Clover wasn't the real wife? Hanged if I see why she shouldn't come forward!" "My friend," replied Greenacre, smiling gently, "it will be my privilege to make known all the facts of this case to the Honourable Miss Trefoyle, his lordship's sister and nearest surviving relative." "What?" "I regard it as a simple duty.
Gammon, Lord Polperro's housekeeper, and Miss Trefoyle. The name of Greenacre was not so much as mentioned; the existence of a lady named Mrs. Clover remained unknown to court and public. On the following day Mr. Gammon had a private interview with Miss Trefoyle. He was aware that this privilege had already been sought by and granted to Mr.
Barony created by George III for some personal service. The first Polperro is said to have lived a year or two as a gipsy, and at another time as a highwayman. There's a portrait of him, Beeching tells me, in somebody's history of Cornwall, showing to perfection the Trefoyle nose." "Same as Quodling's, then," exclaimed Gammon. "Quodling, the broker?" "Precisely.
It depends so greatly on his lordship's health. I can only assure you that at the earliest possible moment Lady Polperro will be summoned to an interview with her husband. By the by, I trust her ladyship is quite well?" "Oh, she's all right," replied Gammon impatiently. "And the Honourable Minnie Trefoyle she, too, enjoys good health, I trust?"
Lord Polperro bitterly laments the follies of his life which are explained, Gammon, as you and I know, by the character he inherited. We know the peculiarities of the Trefoyle family. Some of them I must not refer to in the presence of a young lady such as Miss Sparkes." Polly looked at her toes and smirked.
"Uncommonly awkward, though she gained her case for all that. Polperro, it seems, had a shady reputation heavy drinker, and so on. There were strong characteristics some peculiarity of the nose. The old chap used to say that there was the nose of the Bourbons and the nose of the Trefoyles, his family name." "What name?" "Trefoyle. Cornish, you know. Rum lot they always seem to have been.
"Polperro, Lord, 16, Lowndes Mansions, Sloane Street, S.W. Junior Ramblers' Club. Trefoyle, Liskeard, Cornwall." By jorrocks! With thoughts tuned to anything but the oil and colour business he returned to Quodlings' and had his interview with the head of the firm. Mr.
"Just what I said," was Gammon's mental comment as he thumped the aristocratic pages. Now for the women. To begin with, Lord Polperro was set down a bachelor ha! ha! Then he had one sister, Miss Adela Trefoyle, older than himself, and that might very well be the lady who was seen beside him at the theatre.
He chose to earn his own bread, and live his own life, like ordinary mortals. He took the name of Clover. Of course, you see why." "Hanged if I do," said Gammon. "Why, my dear fellow, are not clover and trefoil the same things? Don't you see? Trefoyle. Only a little difference of accent." "Never heard the word. Did you, Polly?" "Not me." "Ah! not unnatural. An out-of-the-way word."
Greenacre, and as his one great object was to avert shame and sorrow from his friends at Battersea Park, Gammon acquitted himself with entire discretion; that is to say, he did not allow Miss Trefoyle to suspect that there had been anything between him and her brother except a sort of boon companionship. In behaving thus he knew that he was acting as Mrs. Clover most earnestly desired.
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