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Updated: July 21, 2025
Miss Quisanté had the curiosity to await Dick Benyon's coming, and, in spite of his evident expectation of a tête-
It would be much easier, and probably much more sensible, to fall into line and acquiesce in the condemnation; then it would matter nothing whether the vulgar did or did not elect to admire Dick Benyon's peculiar friend.
They looked round them confusedly, made shy for the moment by Benyon's having struck a note more serious than any that had hitherto souuded between them, looked at the sparse furniture, draped in white overalls, at the scagiiola floor, in which the great cluster of crystal pendants seemed to shine again. "You are master of your ship. Can't you sail it as you like?" Kate Theory asked, with a smile.
Benyon's eyes went back to the portrait; he could see what she meant it stared out at him. "Her? Georgina?" "Georgina Gressie. Gracious, do you know her?" It was very distinct that answer of Mrs. Percival's, and the question that followed it as well. But he had the resource of the picture; he could look at it, seem to take it very seriously, though it danced up and down before him.
There were the people who were angry at Dick Benyon's interference and at his protégé's impudence; in the ranks of these were most of Dick's political comrades, together with their wives and daughters. Here the resentment was at the idea that there was any vacancy, actual or prospective, which could not be filled perfectly well without the intrusion of such a person as Quisanté.
That night, before she went to bed, she wrote to Weston Marchmont; "Dear Friend, I will not wait to see you again. I can't do what you wish. Everything else I could do for you, and everything else that you wish I wish for you. But I can't do that." Alas for the renewed peace of Lady Richard's mind, alas for the returning quiet of Dick Benyon's conscience!
"Whativer 'ave you been doin'?" she exclaimed. "You're draggled from top to toe, and your Sunday dress too!" "I got caught by the tide," said Beth; "and I'm done." "Just you get into bed, then," said Harriet; "and I'll fetch you up some tea when she goes out. She's off in a moment to Lady Benyon's." "Bless you, Harriet!" Beth exclaimed.
It was he who always gave the signal to rise; before he did so on this occasion, he formally requested his sister to request Beth to be silent during Lady Benyon's visit. Lady Benyon was a shrewd, active little old woman, with four dark curls laid horizontally on either side of her forehead. She had bright black sparkling eyes that glanced about quickly and seemed to see everything.
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