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Updated: June 15, 2025
You shameless woman, you are married already. I know the man's name. Arnold Brinkworth." "Did Geoffrey Delamayn tell you that?" "I decline to answer a woman who speaks of Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn in that familiar way." Anne advanced a step nearer. "Did Geoffrey Delamayn tell you that?" she repeated.
"Tell me the worst." Mrs. Glenarm decided to risk it. "Have you never heard," she asked, "that Mr. Brinkworth might possibly have committed himself with another lady before he married Miss Lundie?" Her ladyship first closed her eyes in horror and then searched blindly on the counterpane for the smelling-bottle. Mrs.
The formal objections of the lawyers were registered once more. Sir Patrick addressed himself to his niece for the last time. "You believe what Arnold Brinkworth has said; you believe what Miss Silvester has said. You know that not even the thought of marriage was in the mind of either of them, at the inn.
Brinkworth" and "Blanche" her mind ran incessantly on those two persons. The one intelligible thing that she mentioned in connection with them was the letter. She was perpetually trying, trying, trying to take that unfinished letter to the post; and she could never get there. Sometimes the post was across the sea. Sometimes it was at the top of an inaccessible mountain.
Arnold's unlimited belief in Blanche expressed itself, without the slightest compromise, in two words: "That's impossible!" Anxious as she was, miserable as she was, a faint smile flitted over Anne's face. "Sir Patrick would tell you, Mr. Brinkworth, that nothing is impossible where women are concerned." She dropped her momentary lightness of tone, and went on as earnestly as ever.
The lawyers engage to have the settlements ready in three or four days more, if a personal consultation can be managed. Some formal question, I believe, connected with title-deeds. Sir Patrick thought the safest way and the speediest way would be to take Mr. Brinkworth with him to Edinburgh to get the business over to-day and to wait until we join them, on our way south, to-morrow."
He told me that he had found out all that had passed between us at the inn. He said he had taken a lawyer's opinion. Oh, Mr. Brinkworth! how can I break it to you? how can I write the words which repeat what he said to me next? It must be done. Cruel as it is, it must be done. He refused to my face to marr y me. He said I was married already. He said I was your wife.
I have told you that Arnold Brinkworth was privately at Craig Fernie, with Miss Silvester, in the acknowledged character of her husband when we supposed him to be visiting the estate left him by his aunt. You refuse to believe it and I am about to put it to the proof. Is it your interest or is it not, to know whether this man deserves the blind belief that you place in him?"
And did Blanche's description of what he and Arnold Brinkworth were doing point to the conclusion that they were taking the law into their own hands in despair? The more she thought of it, the more likely it seemed. She was still pursuing the train of thought thus suggested, when the gate-bell rang. The noises in the spare room suddenly stopped. Anne looked out.
Arnold Brinkworth? No! He had had enough, at Windygates, of meeting her face to face. The easy way was to write to her, and send the letter, by the first messenger he could find, to the inn. She might appear afterward at Windygates; she might follow him to his brother's; she might appeal to his father. It didn't matter; he had got the whip-hand of her now. "You are a married woman."
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