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Updated: May 5, 2025
George doesn't know. I felt I must come to see you. Do you think that you two quite know all you're doing? It seems so dreadful, and it's not only yourselves, is it?" Mrs. Bellew's smile vanished. "Please don't say 'you two," she said. Mrs. Pendyce stammered: "I don't understand." Mrs. Bellew looked her in the face and smiled; and as she smiled she seemed to become a little coarser.
Bellew's first impulse was to turn, and run. But Bellew rarely acted on impulse; therefore, he set down the bulging portmanteau, seated himself upon it, and taking out pipe and tobacco, waited for his pursuer to come up. "Oh Uncle Porges!" panted a voice, "you did walk so awful fast, an' I called, an' called, but you never heard. An' now, please, where are you going?"
She felt no nervousness and no hostility, only a sort of painful interest and admiration. And how could this or any other woman help falling in love with George? The first uncertain minute over, Mrs. Bellew's eyes were as friendly as if she had been quite within her rights in all she had done; and Mrs. Pendyce could not help meeting friendliness halfway. "Don't be angry with me for coming.
But Baxter, with his hand always upon the black leather bag, sat calm and unruffled, since he knew, by long experience, that Bellew's eye was quick and true, and his hand firm and sure upon the wheel. Over Westminster Bridge, and along the Old Kent Road they sped, now fast, now slow, threading a tortuous, and difficult way amid the myriad vehicles, and so, betimes, they reached Blackheath.
A right jovial companion, at all times, was this Cavalier, an optimist he, from the curling feather in his broad-brimmed beaver hat, to the spurs at his heels. Handsome, gay, and debonair was he, with lips up-curving to a smile beneath his moustachio, and a quizzical light in his grey eyes, very like that in Bellew's own.
Presently he heard a cry, a panting, breathless cry, but full of a joy unspeakable: "I've got it! Oh, Uncle Porges I've found it!" Small Porges was down upon his knees, pulling and tugging at a sack he had partially unearthed, and which, with Bellew's aid, he dragged forth into the moonlight.
When a hole of ten feet long by five broad was thus cleared to the bottom, the natural walls were raised by the snow thrown out, to a total height of about six feet. This was Bellew's bedchamber. The spreading pine-branches overhead were its admirable roof.
Gladys had sometimes been hungry, but she knew nothing of that painful physical sinking, the result of exhausting work and continued insufficiency of food, which the poisonous brew for the time being overcame. Over the tea the trio waxed quite talkative, and 'Lord Bellew's Bride' was discussed to its minutest detail.
Bellew's sleepy glance missed nothing of the other's challenging attitude, and his ear, nothing of Mr. Cassilis's authoritative tone, therefore his smile was most engaging as he answered: "My position here, sir, is truly the most er enviable in the world.
'I dinna think there's onything in real life like the love in "Lord Bellew's Bride," unless among the gentry. 'Do you really think not? asked Gladys, with a slight wistfulness. 'I have not read "Lord Bellew," of course, but I do believe there is that kind of love which would give up all, and dare and suffer anything. I should not like to marry without it.
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