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Updated: May 27, 2025
They entered the garden, Mannering, bareheaded, following his guest. Borrowdean watched them closely as they approached. The woman's expression was purely negative. There was nothing to be learned from the languid smile with which she recognized their presence. Upon Mannering, however, the cloud seemed already to have fallen. His eyebrows were set in a frown.
"You would rather have remained in ignorance, then?" he asked. "I would rather have remained in ignorance," she repeated, calmly. "Don't flatter yourself, Sir Leslie, that a woman ever has any real gratitude in her heart for the person who, out of friendship, or some other motive, destroys her ideals. I should have married Lawrence Mannering if you had not spoken." Borrowdean was silent.
"Stop one moment, Borrowdean," he said. "I want you to understand this once and for all. I have no grievance against Rochester. The old wound, if it ever amounted to that, is healed. If Rochester were here at this moment I would take his hand cheerfully. But " "Ah! There is a but, then," Borrowdean interrupted. "There is a but," Mannering assented.
Mannering greeted him without offering his hand. "You wished to see me, Sir Leslie?" he asked. Borrowdean came slowly into the room. He closed the door behind him. "I hope," he said, "that you will not consider my presence an intrusion!" "You have business with me, I presume," Mannering answered, coldly. "Pray sit down." Borrowdean ignored the chair, towards which Mannering had motioned.
We had a meeting and it was arranged that I should come down and see you. I came, I saw you, I saw the Duchess! The situation very soon became clear to me. Instead of the Duchess converting you, you had very nearly converted the Duchess." "I can assure you " Mannering began. "Let me finish," Borrowdean pleaded. "I realized the situation at a glance.
After these years of rust I scarcely expected him to step back at once into all his former brilliancy. His speech last night was wonderful." "I heard it," she said. "You are quite right. It was wonderful." "You were in the House?" he asked, looking up quickly. "I was there till midnight," she answered. Borrowdean was thoughtful for a moment.
Lord Redford made no effort to induce him to change his mind, though he remained courteous to the last. "I was really glad to have him go," he told Borrowdean afterwards. "His very presence the thought that there could be such colossal fools in the world irritated me beyond measure. You can write his epitaph, Leslie, if your humorous vein is working, for the man is politically dead."
Stay with me here for a day or two, and the joy of all these things will steal into your blood. You, too, will know what peace is." Borrowdean, as though unconsciously, straightened himself. If no colour came to his cheeks, the light of battle was at least in his eyes. This man was speaking heresies. The words sprang to his lips. "Peace!" he exclaimed, scornfully. "Peace is for the dead.
There is another reason which makes my reappearance in public life impossible. Not even your subtlety, Borrowdean, could remove it. I do not even wish it removed. I mean to live my own life, and not to be pitchforked back into politics to suit the convenience of a few adventurous office-seekers, and the Duchess of Lenchester!" "Mannering!" But Mannering had gone.
"The Duchess," Borrowdean continued, "undertook to discover from you what prospects there were, if any, of your return to political life. She took none of us into her confidence. We none of us knew what means she meant to employ. She disappeared. She communicated with none of us. We none of us had the least idea what had become of her. Time went on, and we began to get a little uneasy.
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