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Updated: May 2, 2025
Time flew past while Kenelm talked with Will and the old mother, for Jessie was soon summoned back to the shop; and Kenelm was startled when he found the half-hour's grace allowed to him was over, and Jessie put her head in at the door and said, "Mrs. Braefield is waiting for you."
Braefield, beginning to speak very hurriedly, as women who seek to disguise emotion often do, informed Kenelm how unhappy she had felt for weeks after having found an asylum with her aunt, how she had been stung by remorse and oppressed by a sense of humiliation at the thought of her folly and the odious recollection of Mr.
"I am sure mine is not, and never will be on this earth." Mrs. Braefield did not hear this low-voiced observation. She was looking about for Lily; and perceiving her at last as the children who surrounded her were dispersing to renew the dance, she took Kenelm's arm, led him to the young lady, and a formal introduction took place.
"You say that so sincerely, and so cordially, that to answer by a brief 'I thank you' seems rigid and heartless. But there are times in life when one yearns to be alone, to commune with one's own heart, and, if possible, be still; I am in one of those moody times. Bear with me." Mrs. Braefield looked at him with affectionate, kindly interest.
Braefield that I had paid a visit to Oxford in order to confer with a learned man on a question that puzzled me, and as abstract as that feminine pastime, theology, is now-a-days. I cannot convince Mrs. Braefield that Oxford admits other puzzles in life than those which amuse the ladies." Here Kenelm dropped into a chair by the side of Lily. Lily half turned her back to him.
"Do stay at least till to-morrow," said Mrs. Braefield. Kenelm hesitated still; and while hesitating his eye rested on Lily, leaning on the arm of a middle-aged lady, and approaching the hostess, evidently to take leave. "I cannot resist so tempting an invitation," said Kenelm, and he fell back a little behind Lily and her companion. "Thank you much for so pleasant a day," said Mrs.
Cameron, listening to the whisper and obedient to every whim of Lily's, said, "You are too considerate, dear Mrs. Braefield; Lily prefers walking home; there is no chance of rain now." Kenelm followed the steps of the aunt and niece, and soon overtook them on the brook-side. "A charming night, Mr. Chillingly," said Mrs. Cameron.
Emlyn himself felt in the presence of a pretty wayward innocent child, the companion and friend of his Clemmy. Mrs. Braefield was more discerning; but she had a good deal of tact, and did not as yet scare Kenelm away from her house by letting him see how much she had discerned.
No doubt Kenelm held his own at the banquet, and did his best to increase the general gayety, for whenever he spoke the children listened eagerly, and when he had done they laughed mirthfully. "The fair face I promised you," whispered Mrs. Braefield, "is not here yet. I have a little note from the young lady to say that Mrs.
Cameron replied by an anxious "No; she is still a child, a very good one; why should I be anxious?" Mrs. Braefield, impulsively, "Why, your child must now be eighteen." Mrs. Cameron, "Eighteen is it possible! How time flies! though in a life so monotonous as mine, time does not seem to fly, it slips on like the lapse of water. Let me think, eighteen? No, she is but seventeen, seventeen last May."
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