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Updated: May 14, 2025
Bramleigh Beeches drawing-room as recreated by Sir Nevil Sinclair for his Indian bride was a setting worthy of its mistress: lofty and spacious, light filled by three tall French windows, long gold curtains shot through with bronze; gold and cream colour the prevailing tone; ivory, brass, and bronze the prevailing incidentals, mainly Indian; and flowers in profusion roses, lilies, sweet-peas.
And Roy talked of Bramleigh Beeches in April, till he felt home-sick for primroses and the cuckoo and the smell of mown grass; while, before his actual eyes, the terrible sun of India hung suspended in the haze, like a platter of molten brass, till the turning earth, settling to sleep, shouldered it almost out of sight. That brought them back to realities. "We must scoot," said Roy.
The soul of the right-minded Bramleigh matron was a neutral-tinted, decently veiled phantom, officially recognised morning and evening, also on Sundays, but by no means permitted to interfere with the realities of life.
Small wonder if Oxford seemed to both a paradise of knowledge and of friendly freedom. Small wonder if they believed that, in one bold leap, they had bridged the gulf between East and West. At Bramleigh Beeches, Lilámani who knew all without telling had welcomed them with open arms: and Lady Despard no less.
What if she were announcing her own engagement to some infernal fellow at home? There must be scores and scores of them.... His hand was not quite steady as he unfolded the two sheets that bore his father's crest and the home stamp, 'Bramleigh Beeches. "Many happy returns of June the Ninth. It was one of our great days wasn't it? once upon a time.
The swiftness of transition, the laughing tenderness of her eyes so moved him and so potent in her was the magical essence of womanhood that he, Sir Nevil Sinclair, Baronet, of Bramleigh Beeches, came near to taking the dust of her feet in very deed. "Qui n'accepte pas le regret, n'accepte pas la vie." Nevil's fears were justified to the full.
After months of patient wooing and he by nature impatient he had insisted that matters be settled, one way or the other, before he went on leave; and she had almost reached the point of decision, when Roy, with his careless charm and challenging detachment, appeared on the scene.... And now Lance was gone; Roy was hers; Bramleigh Beeches and a prospective title were hers; but still....
The answer to that staggering question is not yet. But the splendour of their gift remains: a splendour no after-failure can tarnish or dim ... To the inmates of Bramleigh Beeches Nevil excepted the crash came with startling abruptness; dwarfing all personal problems, heart-searchings and high decisions.
He'd like to see your soul centred on Bramleigh Beeches: and I more than suspect they'd both prefer to keep you nearer home." Roy looked distressed. "Hard lines. I hadn't got to that yet. But it wouldn't be for always. And there's George and Jerry sprouting up." "I gather that George and Jerry are not precisely Roy " "Jeffers you old sinner! I can't flatter myself !"
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