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Updated: May 9, 2025
Elgar's death, a year and a half after Miriam's marriage, Cecily passed into the care of her father's sister, a lady of moderate fortune, of parts and attainments, and with a great love of cosmopolitan life. A few months more and Mrs. Baske was to be a widow, childless, left in possession of some eight hundred a year, her house at Bartles, and a local importance to which she was not indifferent.
By a sudden revulsion of mind, Mallard became aware that in the long fit of brooding just gone by he had not been occupied with Cecily at all. Busying his thoughts with Mrs. Baske, he had slipped into a train of meditation already begun on the evening in question, after the drive with her. What was Mrs. Baske's true history?
Bradshaw of Manchester, old acquaintances of the Spences and of Miriam. When it had become known that Mrs. Baske, advised to pass the winter in a mild climate, was about to accept an invitation from her cousin and go by sea to Naples, the Bradshaws, to the astonishment of all their friends, offered to accompany her.
For my own part, I always leave my wife and Mrs. Baske to go about these galleries without my company. If I can't be honestly at my ease, I won't make pretence of being so." "All this is true enough, but the prejudice is absurd. We ought to despise it and struggle against it." "Despise it, many of us do, theoretically.
"And now," said Eleanor, "appoint a day for us to come and see your studio." "You shall appoint it yourself." "Then let us say to-morrow." In speaking, Eleanor turned interrogatively to Miriam, who, however, said nothing. Mallard addressed her. "May I hope that you will come, Mrs. Baske?"
Whether his perseverance will carry him through it, is another question." "He speaks to me of you in a way that He seems, I mean, to put a value on your friendship, and I think you may still influence him. I am very glad he has met you here." "I have very little faith in the influence of one person on another, Mrs. Baske.
It only needed this to complete our enjoyment. Now you will go across to Raise with us." Cecily, with Mrs. Baske and Spence. She had run eagerly forward, and her companions were advancing at a more sober pace.
"Because," he answered, "this work gives me keener and more lasting pleasure than any other would. And I am not a man easily pleased with my own endeavours, Mrs. Baske. I work with little or no hope of ever satisfying myself that is another thing. I have heard men speak of my kind of art as 'the noble pursuit of Truth, and so on.
Baske, do you seriously believe that Reuben Elgar can be made a man of steady purpose by considerations that have primary reference to any one or anything but himself?" She made no answer. "I am not depreciating him. I am sorry that I have lost your confidence, but that is better than to keep it by repeating idle formulas that the world's experience has outgrown."
What rubbish was talked about woman's insight, about her delicate sympathies! "Mrs. Spence is very sorry not to see you occasionally, Mr. Mallard." It was Miriam who spoke. Mallard was watching Cecily, and now, on turning his head, he felt sure that Mrs. Baske had been observant of his countenance. Her eyes fell whilst he was seeking words for a reply.
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