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Updated: May 6, 2025
Carling may have helped; he had it from Fenellan; and he was among the principal groups, claiming or making acquaintances, as a lawyer should do. The Concert was complimentarily a topic: Durandarte divine! did not everybody think so? Everybody did, in default of a term for overtopping it. Our language is poor at hyperbole; our voices are stronger.
I believe the woman keeps herself alive for it: we've given her another lease! though it can only be for a very short time; Themison is precise; Carling too. If we hold back I have great faith in Themison the woman's breath on us is confirmed.
Carling took his first step toward the fatal future that was awaiting him by devoting his leisure hours to the apparently simple and harmless occupation of writing a pamphlet. He had been connected for many years with one of our great Missionary Societies, and had taken as active a part as a country clergyman could in the management of its affairs.
The doctor also recommended that his patient should be left to her maid's care, to fall asleep under the influence of the quieting medicine which he meant to give her. Yielding to this advice, Mr. Carling did his best to suppress his own anxieties, and went to the dinner-party.
Carling suggested that he should ride out after he had done his letters, so as to get some exercise at the fine part of the day; and she then reminded him that a longer time than usual had elapsed since he had been to see a certain old pensioner of his, who had nursed him as a child, and who was now bedridden, in a village at some distance, called Tringweighton.
Duncan received it with an excess of agitation which astonished and almost alarmed the inexperienced clergyman. As soon as she could speak, she begged with extraordinary earnestness and anxiety for a week to consider her answer, and requested Mr. Carling not to visit her on any account until the week had expired. The next morning she and her maid departed for London.
"Perhaps it would," said her sister, "but I think I can understand and sympathize with it." Mrs. Carling broke the silence which followed for a moment or two as if she were thinking aloud. "You have plenty of money," she said, and colored at her inadvertence.
"And how about him?" suggested Mrs. Carling. There was no reply. "Don't you think he may care for you, or be getting to?" Mary frowned slightly, half closing her eyes and stirring a little uneasily in her chair. "He hasn't said anything to me on the subject," she replied evasively. "Would that be necessary?" asked her sister. "Perhaps not," was the reply, "if the fact were very obvious."
As time went on John found himself on terms of growing intimacy with the Carling household, and eventually it came about that if there passed a day when their door did not open to him it was dies non. Mr. Carling was ostensibly more responsible than the ladies for the frequency of our friend's visits, and grew to look forward to them.
'Character, yes, valuable I do wish you had named to-night for doing me the honour of dining with me! said the lawyer impulsively, in a rapture of the appetite for anecdotes. 'I have a ripe Pichon Longueville, '65. 'A fine wine. Seductive to hear of. I dine with my friend Victor Radnor. And he knows wine. There are good women in the world, Mr. Carling, whose characters . . .
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