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Updated: June 26, 2025
Such simple records of servitors' impressions were quite enough for Stornham village, and produced in it a sense of being roused a little from sleep to listen to distant and uncomprehended, but not unagreeable, sounds. One morning Buttle, the carpenter, looked up as Kedgers had done, and saw standing on the threshold of his shop the tall young woman, who was a sensation and an event in herself.
"I want to talk to you about some work which must be done at the Court," she explained at once. "I want to know how much can be done by workmen of the village. How many men have you?" "How many men had he?" Buttle wavered between gratification at its being supposed that he had "men" under him and grumpy depression because the illusion must be dispelled.
Buttle had probably indicated that the unexplainableness of the situation in which G. Selden found himself struck him as reaching the limit of probability, and that the most extended search of his person would fail to reveal any clue to satisfactory explanation. She bent over him, with her laugh still shining in her eyes. "I hope you feel better. Can you tell me?" she said.
The Son of an earl consented to Buttle for them. He refused them Butter with their Meals and kept them trembling most of the time, but they determined to do things Right, even if both died of Nervous Prostration. When they began making real Headway and were recognized in the Park by some of the Headliners, Claudine would chide Elam for his early Doubts and Fears.
Still Joe Buttle and Sim Soames were allowed to lead in all such things as lay within their capabilities. It was they who made such a splendid job of the entrance gates and the lodges. It was astonishing how much was done, and how the sense of life in the air the work of resulting prosperity, made men begin to tread with less listless steps as they went to and from their labour.
Miss Vanderpoel neither assented to nor dissented from this last palpable truth. She regarded Buttle with searching eyes. She was wondering if any practical ability concealed itself behind his dullness. If she gave him work, could he do it? If she gave the whole village work, was it too far gone in its unspurred stodginess to be roused to carrying it out?
Buttle did not know Lord Chelford, and thus shooting his 'arrow o'er the house, he 'hurt his brother. Chelford turned away, and bowed and smiled to one or two friends at the other side of the room. 'Yes, the music was very pretty, and some of the songs were quite charmingly sung. I agree with you we are very much obliged to Lady Chelford that is her son, Lord Chelford.
"You are the master of this shop?" she asked. Buttle came forward, touching his brow in hasty salute. "Yes, my lady," he answered. "Joseph Buttle, your ladyship." "I am Miss Vanderpoel," dismissing the suddenly bestowed title with easy directness. "Are you busy? I want to talk to you."
Penzance, and how well they treated me I haven't told you about that, have I? "That explains what Mrs. Buttle said," she answered. "When you were delirious you talked frequently to Lord Mount Dunstan and Mr. Penzance. We both wondered why." Then he told her the whole story.
If she had given Joe Buttle cause for surprise at the outset, she gave him further cause during the next half-hour. The work that was to be done was such as made him open his eyes, and draw in his breath. If he was to be allowed to do it if he could do it if it was to be paid for it struck him that he would be a man set up for life.
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