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Updated: June 18, 2025
But in the smoking-room and among themselves views were gradually adopted which it would have been heresy to avow in the drawing-room. No man appeared to take less interest in the event and the discussion of it than Sir Allan Beaumerville. Known generally amongst his acquaintances as a cynic and pessimist, men were pretty sure what his opinion would be. But he never expressed it.
He did not appear to be waiting for anyone, nor was he watching the brilliant throng passing westward. His eyes were fixed upon vacancy, and there was a certain steadfast, rapt look in them which altered his expression curiously. Sir Allan Beaumerville seldom used his powers of reflection save for practical purposes. Just then, however, he was departing from his usual custom.
But her father, with an open letter in his hand, checked her. "Have you been seeing much of Sir Allen Beaumerville in town, Helen?" he asked. "Yes, a great deal. Why?" she asked. "He's coming down here," Mr. Thurwell said. "He asks whether we can put him up for a night or two, as he wants to do some botanizing. Of course we shall be very pleased.
Carlyon hesitated, and decided to wait for a moment. They were standing face to face, Sir Allan Beaumerville, the distinguished baronet, who had added to the dignity of an ancient family and vast wealth, a great reputation as a savant and a dilettante physician, and Mr. Bernard Maddison, whose name alone was sufficient to bespeak his greatness.
They might have been there by accident, but it seemed to me as if they had been purposely placed there to hide something possibly a stain on the floor. Before I could move any of them to see, I was disturbed." "By Mr. Brown?" "By Mr. Brown and Sir Allan Beaumerville." "Did you gather from his appearance that he was alarmed at finding you there?" Helen shook her head. "No.
"He gave none," the man answered; "but I think it is Sir Allan Beaumerville." "Ah!" Mr. Maddison felt a sudden relief which escaped him in that brief interjection. He was scarcely surprised at this visit. "I will go to him," he said. "Call me a hansom, Grey, will you?" The porter went outside, and Mr.
I made up my mind then to turn over the past chapter of my life, and start the world afresh. I had always been known by the family name of Martival, and my wife was unaware of my connection with the Beaumerville family. Taking advantage of this, I sent her false news of my death at Paris, and started life afresh as Sir Allan Beaumerville.
There was only one thing in the world wanted to make Sir Allan Beaumerville perfect, women declared, and that one thing was a wife. But although no one appeared to appreciate more highly the charms of feminine society as he showed in more ways than one, both in St. John's Wood and in Belgravia he had never shown the least inclination to perform his duty to society in this respect.
"You are Helen Thurwell?" she said softly. "Sir Allan Beaumerville has bidden me come to you. You have read his note?" "Yes, yes, I have read it," she answered quickly. "He tells me that you have news news that concerns Bernard Maddison. Is it anything that will prove his innocence?" "It is already proved." Helen gave a great cry and sank into a low chair.
Rembrandt might have found a worthy study in the faces of the men seated round that brilliant supper table. Blank horror seemed to hold them all speechless. Sir Allan, too, was trembling, and his hand, which rested upon the table, was as white as the damask cloth. Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and a waiter entered. "A gentleman wishes to speak with Sir Allan Beaumerville," he announced.
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