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Updated: June 22, 2025
"I have been so closely occupied lately; and even if I had not been so, I should have scarcely expected to find you in town at this unfashionable season." "I don't care the least in the world for fashion," Mrs. Branston said, with an impatient shrug of her shoulders. "That is only an excuse of yours, Mr. Fenton; you completely forgot my existence, I have no doubt.
I might go into Parliament, and make something of a name for myself. I could write books instead of anonymous articles. I should scarcely sink down into an idle mindless existence of dinner-giving and dinner-eating. Yes, I think the best thing that could happen to me would be to marry Adela Branston."
"Where shall I tell the man to drive, mum?" the butler asked with the cab-door in his hand. Mrs. Branston felt herself blushing, and hesitated a little before she replied. "The Union Bank, Chancery-lane. Tell him to go by the Strand and Temple-bar." "I can't think what's come to my mistress," Miss Berners remarked as the cab drove off.
"I trust it will bring you fame and money when the time comes," answered Gilbert. "And how about Mrs. Branston? Is she as charming as ever?" "A little more so, if possible. Poor old Michael Branston is dead went off the hooks rather suddenly about a month ago. The widow looks amazingly pretty in her weeds." "And you will marry her, I suppose, Jack, as soon as her mourning is over?"
John Saltram would recover, to seek and reclaim his wife, and then those two must needs pass for ever out of Gilbert Fenton's life. The story would be finished, and his own part of it bald enough to be told on the fly-leaf at the end of the book. Mrs. Branston bore the shock of his ill news better than Gilbert had expected.
Adela Branston had sent these things in defiance of her outraged kinswoman, Mrs. Pallinson, who was not slow to descant upon the impropriety of such a proceeding. "I wonder you can talk in such a way, when you know how friendless this poor Mr. Saltram is, and how little trouble it costs me to do as much as this for him.
She has been nursing her son for the last few days; but he is much better, and I expect her back immediately. We shall be so pleased to see you; you will name an early day, won't you? Monday shall we say, or Sunday? You can't plead business on Sunday." "My dear Mrs. Branston, I really am not well enough for visiting." "But dining with us does not come under the head of visiting.
Adela Branston seemed to breathe more freely in that brief holiday. Relieved from Mrs. Pallinson's dismal presence, life appeared brighter and pleasanter all at once; a faint colour came back to the pale cheeks, and the widow was even beguiled into laughter by some uncomplimentary observations which her confidential maid ventured upon with reference to the absent lady.
"Yes, he said he was likely to require as much as that." "Then he must have thought of going to America." "To America! travel to America in his weak state of health?" cried Mrs. Branston, aghast. "Yes. It seems like madness, does it not? But there are circumstances under which a man may be excused for being almost mad.
I have every wish to set your mind at ease, believe me, Mrs. Branston, but in John Saltram's present state I am sure it would be ill-advised for you to see him." "Of course I cannot press the question if you say that," Adela answered despondently; "but I should have been so glad if you could have allowed me to see him.
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