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Updated: May 19, 2025
"My correspondent is not one to look for them or need them," he answered lightly, and dipped his spoon in the broth. "Is she not?" quoth her ladyship. Mr. Caryll laughed. "So feminine!" said he. "Ha, ha! So very feminine to assume the sex so readily." "'Tis an easy assumption when the superscription is writ in a woman's hand." Mr. Caryll, the picture of amiability, smiled between spoonfuls.
Caryll to speak, we shall infer that you fear what he may have to say; you will compel us to hear him in your absence, and I cannot think that you would prefer that, my lord." My lord fell silent. He was breathing heavily, and his face was pale, his eyes angry beyond words, what time Mr.
"Did your lordship expect letters?" he inquired. "That was scarcely reason enough to suppose me a courier. There is some mistake, I imagine." Between the wink and the words his lordship was bewildered. Mr. Caryll turned to the lady, bowing. Then he waved a hand over the downs. "A fine view," said he airily, and she stared at him. "I shall treasure sweet memories of Maidstone."
Caryll parried lightly and closely, plying a beautiful weapon in the best manner of the French school, and opposing to the ponderous force of his antagonist a delicate frustrating science. Rotherby, a fine swordsman in his way, soon saw that here was need for all his skill, and he exerted it.
Caryll considered him again, and wondered a moment at the confession, till he understood by intuition that the matter and its consequences were so deeply preying upon the man's mind that he could not refrain from giving vent to his fears. "And now you know," his lordship added, "why my hopes are all in King James. Ruin stares me in the face. Ruin and shame.
They exchanged glances Hortensia watching them, breathless, her own mind working, too, upon this question that Mr. Caryll had set, yet nowhere finding an answer. "I had thought," said her ladyship at last, "that you promised to tell us something that it was in our interest to hear. Instead, you appear to be asking questions." Mr. Caryll shifted in his chair.
"I have seen someone I did not expect to find in a resort of gentlemen," said Rotherby, his eyes ever on Mr. Caryll, who engrossed in his game was all unconscious of his lordship's advent. Wharton followed the direction of his companion's gaze, and giving now attention himself to Mr. Caryll, he fell to appraising his genteel appearance, negligent of the insinuation in what Rotherby had said.
'No, not the least, thank you, auntie, the little girl replied, and something in her voice told Mrs. Caryll that Rosamond had cheered up again. 'Uncle Ted says he would like a cup of tea after his journey, her aunt went on, 'and I have a letter I want to send this evening, so you must pour it out for him while I write.
"Ay the Gordian knot. Had she lived and had my father smoked the affair Gad! he would ha' broke me; he would so!" he repeated, and emptied his glass. Mr. Caryll, white to the lips, sat very still a moment. Then he did a curious thing; did it with a curious suddenness. He took a knife from the table, and hacked off the lowest button from his coat. This he pushed across the board to his father.
'Tis all an impudent lie a pack of lies!" cried Rotherby. "He's crafty as all the imps of hell." Mr. Caryll rose. "Here in the sight of God and by all that I hold most sacred, I swear that what I have said is true. I swear that Lord Ostermore your father was my father. I was born in France, in the year 1690, as I have papers upon me that will prove, which you may see, Rotherby."
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