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Updated: June 3, 2025
M. de Fontelles was honest, M. de Fontelles was hot-tempered, M. de Fontelles would be told that he was a rogue. To Carford this seemed enough. "You would do yourself good if you convinced him of that," he answered. "For though she would not, I think, become his wife, he has the influence of long acquaintance, and might use it against you. But perhaps you're too angry with him?"
Carford laughed. "So I should, my dear!" he exclaimed. "It's been so long since I've told a story to little folks that I've forgotten how, I guess. "So I'll begin over again. Once upon a time, a good many years ago, I was a little boy, and I lived on a farm.
The Duke seized me by the arm, with a sudden air of excitement. Carford stepped forward and stood beside him. "Je viens, tu viens.... Yes! And any more?" cried the Duke. "Yes, your Grace," I answered, again amazed. "I completed what grammarians call the Singular Number by adding 'Il vient; whereupon but I have told you." "Il vient?" cried the Duke and Carford all in a breath.
"My duty comes before my quarrel," said Fontelles. "I will seek this gentleman." "As you will. I think you're wise. They will know at the inn where to find him." "I will see him at once," cried Fontelles. "I have, it seems, two matters to settle with this gentleman." Carford, concealing his exultation, bade M. de Fontelles do as seemed best to him.
"No, sir." "Ha! I thought not. It's a fine place. But I don't go there any more never any more," and he shook his head sadly. "Did it burn down?" asked Freddie, who was always interested in fires and firemen. "Couldn't they put it out?" "No, Freddie, it didn't burn down," said Mr. Carford. "Sometimes I almost wish it had before my trouble happened," he added slowly. "Yes, I almost wish it had.
"To think of this charming rosebud of a girl going to marry Eustace Medlicott insufferable, conceited prig, I remember him at Oxford," the cousin was musing to himself. "Lord Carford is an old stick-in-the-mud, or he would have prevented that. She is his own niece, and one can see by her frock that the poor child never even goes to London."
"He's had more than he can carry already," I whispered. Carford turned straight to the Duke, crying, "Mr Dale here says that your Grace is drunk." He made nothing by the move, for the Duke answered good-humouredly, "Truly I am drunk, but in the legs only, my good Simon. My head is clear, clear as daylight, or the " He looked round cunningly, and caught each of us by the arm.
"I don't know your meaning." What concern had Carford with the French lady? "I think you are in the way to learn it. Love makes men quick, doesn't it? But that by the way. Simon, neither do I love this French lady." Had it not been for that morning's mood of mine, she would have won on me again, and all my resolutions gone for naught.
"You go with M. de Fontelles, my lord?" she asked. "With your permission, I remain here," he answered. She was vexed, and rose to her feet as she cried, "Then where is M. de Fontelles going?" Fontelles took the reply for himself. "I am going to seek a gentleman with whom I have business," said he. "You have none with my Lord Carford?" "What I have with him will wait."
"He makes up packages, bundles, baskets and bags of things to eat, and gives them to all the poor families he can hear of. He was poor once himself, you know, and he never can forget it." "He is very kind," said Nan, in a low voice. "Yes, he is that," agreed Miss Carford, "and I suppose I oughtn't to find fault. But he does give away an awful lot."
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