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Updated: May 6, 2025
"Do you think," he went on, "that there will be a special Hell in the Hereafter for parents who have sacrificed their children's lives to their own ambition? I hope there will be." "I have never given the matter the consideration it deserves," she answered. "Was that the reason? Is Lady Cantourne a more important person than Lady Meredith?" "Yes."
Then he turned and mingled with the well-dressed throng, bowing where he ought to bow asking with fervour for dances in plain but influential quarters where dances were to be easily obtained. And all the while his father and Lady Cantourne watched. "Yes, I THINK," the lady was saying, "that that is the favoured one." "I fear so." "I noticed," observed Lady Cantourne, "that he asked for a dance."
"It will be entirely my fault," replied Sir John, "if I see her do it again." "It does not matter about a man," said Lady Cantourne, after a little pause; "but a woman cannot afford to make a fool of herself. She ought never to run the risk of being laughed at. And yet I am told that they teach that elegant accomplishment at fashionable schools."
It was a shameless record of that which might have been good in a man prostituted and trampled under foot by the vanity of a woman. Lady Cantourne was of the world worldly; and because of that, because the finest material has a seamy side, and the highest walks in life have the hardiest weeds, she knew what love should be.
"I hope some day you will see herself, at home in England. For you have no abiding city here." "Only a few more years now. Has she are her parents living?" "No, they are both dead. Indian people they were. Indian people have a tragic way of dying young. Millicent lives with her aunt, Lady Cantourne. And Lady Cantourne ought to have married my respected father." "Why did she not do so?"
Sir John looked hastily round. Lady Cantourne had come into the room and was talking to the two young people: Millicent was glancing uneasily over Mr. Grubb's brainless cranium towards them. Sir John's stiff, unsteady fingers fumbled for a moment round his lips. "Yes," he said, "I was wrong."
She could not say that she had been forced by a sudden breakdown of her brother's health to leave Loango while Jack Meredith's fate was still wrapped in doubt. She could not tell Lady Cantourne that all her world was in Africa that she was counting the days until she could go back thither.
"As to the other, it is early to give an opinion." "She has had the best of trainings ," he murmured. And Lady Cantourne turned on him with a twinkle amidst the wrinkles. "For which?" she asked. "Choisissez!" he answered, with a bow. One sees a veteran swordsman take up the foil with a tentative turn of the wrist, lunging at thin air.
"By the way, dear," said Lady Cantourne to her niece the next afternoon, "I have asked a Miss Gordon to come to tea this afternoon. I met her last night at the Fitzmannerings. She lives in Loango and knows Jack. I thought you might like to know her. She is exceptionally ladylike and rather pretty." And straightway Miss Millicent Chyne went upstairs to put on her best dress.
"He seems to think that his friends are going to cast him off because his poor father died without the assistance of a medical man," continued the old lady meaningly. "No I never said that, Lady Cantourne." "But you implied it." Guy Oscard shook his head. "I hate being a notoriety," he said. "I like to pass through with the crowd. If I go away for a little while I shall return a nonentity."
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