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Updated: June 6, 2025
Yet to-night she felt infinitely tender over Fritz, as if she stood by him again and saw the bandage darkened by the red stain. Then she thought of the song she had sung to Lady Cardington, the song which had surely opened the eyes of her own drowsy, if not actually sleeping, heart: "Tutto al mondo e vano: Nell'amore ogni dolcezza." It was horribly true to her to-night.
One of those women who are all shirt and collar and nattiness, with a gold fox for a tie-pin and a hunting-crop under the arm. She was killed schooling a horse in Mexico after making Ulford shy and uncomfortable for fifteen years. Lady Cardington and a Texas cowboy would have been as well suited to one another. Ulford's been like a wistful ghost, they tell me, ever since her death.
Unconsciously all three suspended their conversation to watch the simple operation of putting salt upon the cloth. Cardington, turning his eyes toward his hostess with an anticipatory relish for the rest of her sentence, was suddenly struck by an inexplicable change. Her face had become white in a moment, and she was regarding the maid's trembling hands with curious intensity.
Lady Holme looked definitely dubious. "I'll tell you who'll be there Lady Cardington, Lady Manby, Mrs. Trent do you know her? Spanish looking, and's divorced two husbands, and's called the scarlet woman because she always dresses in red Sally Perceval, Miss Burns and Pimpernel Schley." "Pimpernel Schley! Who is she?" "The American actress who plays all the improper modern parts.
You shattered my hope." "I'm sorry," Lady Holme said. And she said it with more tenderness than she had ever before used to a woman. Lady Cardington pressed a pocket-handkerchief against her eyes. "Sing me that song again," she whispered. "Don't say anything more. Just sing it again and I'll go." Lady Holme went to the piano.
Wolfstein, with whom she was engaged to lunch. She did not wish to lunch with her. She disliked Mrs. Wolfstein as she disliked most women, but she had not been able to get out of it. Mrs. Wolfstein had overheard her saying to Lady Cardington that she had nothing particular to do till four that day, and had immediately "pinned her." Besides disliking Mrs.
Cardington queried, leaning back in his chair with an expectant twinkle in his eyes. "I felt that I was visiting a storage warehouse filled with old furniture, in the midst of which stood Parr like a wax figure escaped from the Eden Musée." "I can well understand that," Cardington commented, with a chuckle.
I ask you, therefore, not only as my private friends and relatives, but as politicians, to drink to-night to the health of my son-in-law." They all rose. "And with that toast," Lord Cardington added, as he bowed toward Julien, "let me associate the fervent pleasure felt by all of us in welcoming back once more the colleague to whom we have so many reasons to be thankful."
He purchased a pipe for Cardington, and ultimately found himself in a large department store turning over the volumes on the book counter in search of a gift for his father. Presently he heard a voice at his elbow. "Are you engaged in Christmas shopping too, Mr. Leigh?" He turned and saw Mrs. Parr looking at him tentatively, her hands full of bundles.
"Professor Cardington lives here," he remarked, "and you may have the opposite suite, if you like. The rooms are secluded and command a fine view in either direction. These are the only apartments in the tower, and they are ordinarily reserved for the bachelors of the faculty."
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