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Updated: June 26, 2025
"I wonder how little Jenny's going on," said our idle friend to himself, as he drew near Bentley. "I might do worse than take little Jenny. I only hope she hasn't taken up with that clod-hopper Fenton while I've been away, for want of a better. I almost think I'll have her. Dolly Campion's like to have more money, 'tis true; but it isn't so much more, and she's got an ugly temper with it.
I must own that I was taken somewhat aback by this array of figures "that don't lie." "And for twenty dollars we could have bought a neat, well made dressing-bureau, at Moore and Campion's, that would have lasted for twice as many years, and always looked in credit." "But ours, you know, only cost ten," said I. "The bureau, such as it is, cost ten, and the glass two.
"If it's really your job," replied Campion, "you will. You must. You can't help it. God made man so." It was only an hour or two later when, for the first time in my life, I came into practical touch with human misery, that I recognised the truth of Campion's perfervid optimism. No one could like our task that night in its outer essence. For a time it revolted me.
Alan Walcott sat in his room, on the first floor of a house between the Strand and the River Thames, reading Lettice Campion's book. He had read it once, from beginning to end, and now he was turning back to the passages which had moved him most deeply, anxious not to lose the light from a single facet of the gem that sparkled in his hands.
This was Campion's position, and Sir John felt that his brother-in-law would soon fall into line. Sydney was made the proprietor of the London house in which they were to live the house at Vanebury was let for the present; but the whole of the domestic charges were to be borne by his wife.
"Master in?" said Mr. Copley, who was a man of few words. "No, sir." "Lady in?" "My mistress does not receive any one so early." "Take that up answer important bearer waiting." The footman condescended so far as this, and gave Mr. Copley's letter into the charge of Mrs. Campion's maid. In less than ten minutes Nan sent for the unwelcome visitor.
She was very pale when she received him, and she looked so young and fair that Mr. Copley was a little taken aback. He knew that Sydney had married an heiress, and it was from her, therefore, that he had determined, if possible, to get the money; but he half repented his resolve when he saw Mrs. Campion's face. "Too young to know anything about business," he said to himself.
Again and again in his own room he studied a little manuscript translation of Father Campion's "Ten Reasons," that had been taken from a popish prisoner, and that a friend had given him; and as he read its exultant rhetoric, he wondered whether the writer was indeed as insincere and treacherous as Mr. Scot declared.
Whereupon we proceeded to Campion's plain but comfortably furnished quarters in Barbara's Building, where he entertained us till nearly midnight with cold beef and cheese and strenuous conversation. As I walked across Westminster Bridge on my homeward way it seemed as if London had grown less hostile. Big Ben chimed twelve and there was a distinct Dick Whittington touch about the music.
"I do not pretend to understand you, Benis. But then, I never did. Your private affairs are your own, also your motives. And I never meddle, as you know. I think though, that I may be permitted a straight question. Has your feeling toward Desire changed?" "Neither changed nor likely to change." Miss Campion's expression softened. "Are you sure that she knows it?"
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