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Updated: June 25, 2025
She heard the deep voice of this other son say: "Lots of kinks in life. There is only one law that I shall lay down for you, Arty. You must give up all idea of marrying Elsa Chetwood." "It will be easy to obey that. Are you playing with me, Paul?" "Playing?" echoed Warrington. "Yes. Do you mean to sit there and tell me that you don't know why I shall never marry her?"
Sounds like a fairy-tale; eh? I shall never return here. But did you know who Elsa Chetwood was?" "Not until that letter came." Neither of them heard the faint gasp which came from behind the portières dividing the study and the living-room. The gasp had followed the invisible knife-thrusts of these confidences. The woman behind those portières swayed and caught blindly at the jamb.
And when she admitted that she was the daughter of General Chetwood, the man to whom the Indian government had cause to be grateful, upon more than one occasion, for the solidity of his structures, the colonel realized definitely the seriousness of his crucifixion. He sat stiffer and stiffer in his chair, and the veins in his nose grew deeper and deeper in hue.
"I don't know but mother is right," Laura sighed. "Your language is becoming something to listen to with fear and trembling. And I am not accusing you, Chetwood. I'm only asking you!" "And I'm only answering you emphatically," chuckled her brother. "It is no laughing matter when you cannot find fifty dollars," she told him. "You'd better stir your wits a little, then, Sis," he advised.
"Reginald," she said, with perfect confidence, relapsing once more at a bound into the ordinary every-day British matron, "there's no harm done, I'm sure. She doesn't think of this young man at all. You may dismiss him from your mind at once and for ever. She's sleeping like a baby." "Mrs. Hugh Holker, at home, Saturday, May 29th, 3 to 6.30. Chetwood Court; tennis."
"I promise to send this upon one condition." "I accept without question," readily. "It is that you must keep away from Elsa Chetwood, now and hereafter. You made her acquaintance under false pretenses." "I deny that. Not under false pretenses." How quickly things went about! "Let me tell you how I met her."
Before Saturday, the 29th, arrived, however, Guy had so far changed his mind in the matter, that he presented himself duly with Nevitt at Waterloo to catch the same train to Chetwood station that Cyril went down by. "After all," he said to Nevitt, as they walked together from the club in Piccadilly, "I may as well see what the girl's like, anyhow.
Oldfield, in the character of Sophonisba, has excelled what, even in the fondness of an author, I could either wish or imagine. The grace, dignity, and happy variety of her action have been universally applauded, and are truly admirable. Among those who saw Sophonisba was Chetwood, whose "General History of the Stage" gives us many a charming glimpse of dead and gone actors. Dead and gone?
Nearly all of Elsa's wealth lay bound up in this enormous business which General Chetwood had founded thirty odd years before. And neither of them knew! "I am not a bad man at heart," he mused, "but I liked the young man's expression when I mentioned that bully Mallow." He joined his family at five. He waved aside tea, and called for a lemon-squash. "Elsa, I am going to give you a lecture."
That afternoon Martha chanced to sit down in a vacant chair, just out of the range of the cricketers. She lolled back and idly watched the batsmen. And then she heard voices. "She is Elsa Chetwood. I remember seeing her pictures. She is a society girl, very wealthy, but something of a snob." Martha's ears tingled. A snob, indeed, because she minded principally her own affairs!
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