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Updated: April 30, 2025
The sun, low as it was, shone warmly as well as brilliantly between the clouds that he had thrust asunder and scattered in wild and beautiful disorder. It was one of those incredible days in early spring, balmy, tender, which our island summer cannot always match. We went on till we reached Beggar's Stile. "Sit down," said Atherley, tossing on to the wet step a coat he carried over his arm.
Don't you know the dream you make up in a few moments about the knocking at the door when they call you in the morning? And ghosts are only waking dreams." "I wonder if you ever had an illusion yourself gave way to it, I mean. You were in love once twice," I added hastily, in deference to Lady Atherley. "Only once," said Atherley, calmly. "Do you ever see her now, Lindy?
They had bought him with their own pocket-money from a tinker who was ill-using him, and then claimed for him the hospitality of their parents; so, though Atherley often spoke of the dog as a disgrace to the household, he remained a member thereof, and received, from a family incapable of being uncivil, far less unkind, to an animal, as much attention as if he had been high-bred and beautiful which indeed he plainly supposed himself to be.
I remember no more of the discussion, except that Atherley continued to reiterate his doctrine in different words, and Mrs. Molyneux to denounce it with unabated fervour. My thoughts wandered I heard no more.
But before I had time to say more, Atherley in his smoking-coat looked in to see if I was coming or not. "Don't keep Mr. Lyndsay up late, George," said my kind hostess; "he looks so tired." "You look dead beat," he said later on, in his own particular and untidy den, as he carefully stuffed the bowl of his pipe.
I was tired and depressed, and felt grateful to Lady Atherley when, with invariable punctuality, at a quarter to eleven, she interrupted the symposium by rising and proposing that we should all go to bed. My last distinct recollection of that evening is of Mrs.
"And on your way back," said Lady Atherley, "would you mind the carriage stopping to leave some brandy at Monk's? Mr. Austyn told me last night he was so weak, and the doctor has ordered him brandy every hour." Atherley was disappointed with what he called my last edition of the ghost; he complained that it was little more definite than the Canon's.
Really good people, you know, so honourable, so generous, so self-sacrificing. It is just the same to me as if they should ask me whether the sun was shining, when all the time I saw the sunshine on their faces." "By the way," said Atherley that night after dinner, when Mrs. Molyneux was not present, "where are you going to put Cissy to-night? Are you going to make a bachelor of her too?"
Then he looked up at me from under his shaggy brows with haggard, wistful eyes, and gasped: "It's hard work, sir; it's hard work." And I went out into the sunshine, feeling that I had heard the epitome of his life. That night Mrs. Mallet surpassed herself by her rendering of a menu, especially composed by Atherley for the delectation of their guest. Their pains were not wasted.
Balfour, by preconcerted plan, was speaking at the moment when the guillotine fell with the idea, of course, of bringing into greater relief the wickedness of the Government. Mr. Goschen was marked out to perform the same task this Thursday, but who should get up but Atherley Jones. The delighted Liberals cheered him to the echo. Mr.
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