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Updated: May 9, 2025
The Beloved was again embodied; she filled every fibre and curve of this woman's form. Drawing near the great London station was like drawing near Doomsday. How should he leave her in the turmoil of a crowded city street? She seemed quite unprepared for the rattle of the scene. He asked her where her aunt lived. 'Bayswater, said Miss Bencomb.
Leverre the mother of the young gentleman Miss Avice has run off with. 'Yes I'll see her, said Pierston. He covered the face of the dead Avice, and descended. 'Leverre, he said to himself. His ears had known that name before to-day. It was the name those travelling Americans he had met in Rome gave the woman he supposed might be Marcia Bencomb.
How should I? You are a kimberlin. 'I am not. I am a real islander or was, rather.... Haven't you heard of the Best-Bed Stone Company? 'I should think so! They tried to ruin my father by getting away his trade or, at least, the founder of the company did old Bencomb. 'He's my father! 'Indeed. I am sorry I should have spoken so disrespectfully of him, for I never knew him personally.
He isn't a Frenchman, though he has lived in France. His father was a Jersey gentleman, and on his becoming a widower he married as his second wife a native of this very island. That's mainly why the young man is so at home in these parts. 'Ah now I follow 'ee. She was a Bencomb, his stepmother: I heard something about her years ago.
Pierston here gave in brief the history of his revived comradeship with Avice, the verge of the engagement to which they had reached, and its unexpected rupture by him, merely through his meeting with a woman into whom the Well-Beloved unmistakably moved under his very eyes by name Miss Marcia Bencomb.
Pierston soon after took his leave. A friend's advice on such a subject weighs little. He quickly returned to Miss Bencomb. She was different now. Anxiety had visibly brought her down a notch or two, undone a few degrees of that haughty curl which her lip could occasionally assume. 'How long you have been away! she said with a show of impatience. 'Never mind, darling.
Miss Bencomb was leaving the hotel for the railway, which was quite near at hand, and had only recently been opened, as if on purpose for this event. At Jocelyn's suggestion she wrote a message to inform her father that she had gone to her aunt's, with a view to allaying anxiety and deterring pursuit.
After making over his large business to the company, he retired, I believe, to London? 'Yes. Our house, or rather his, not mine, is at South Kensington. We have lived there for years. But we have been tenants of Sylvania Castle, on the island here, this season. We took it for a month or two of the owner, who is away. 'Then I have been staying quite near you, Miss Bencomb.
Welland's brow remained clouded, and it was evident that his perturbed imagination had fastened at once on this last remark. "Yes: your mother's a very old woman; and for all we know Bencomb may not be as successful with very old people.
Pierston knew of old Bencomb as his father's bitterest enemy, who had made a great fortune by swallowing up the small stone-merchants, but had found Jocelyn's sire a trifle too big to digest the latter being, in fact, the chief rival of the Best-Bed Company to that day.
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