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Updated: June 6, 2025
"And how you would enjoy explaining to Miss Cinnamond the way in which you had eliminated your hated rival!" said Gerrard. "Well, why not? All the old fellows in the Ages of Chivalry, that she talks of, did that sort of thing all day long, so why should she blame in a poor beggar of a Bengali what she would pass over in a baron bold?"
"She doesn't care about either of them, and if anything happened to Charley I should die." "Oh, my dear, we will hope she cares for Mr Gerrard," interposed Lady Cinnamond hastily, seeing her husband's brow grow thunderous.
But there was no time to think of Honour, for Marian, hearing her mother's voice, had tottered to her door. "Oh, dear mamma, I have wanted you so much! You understand, you know all about it." Not until the evening did Honour see her mother again, and then Lady Cinnamond crept out on tiptoe into the verandah.
Mrs Jardine looked a little nonplussed. "Of course it is very sad," she admitted. "But surely it has its brighter side? The fact is, the General and dear Lady Cinnamond are everything to each other. There is really no place for the poor girl.
With her head held very high, she walked away to the end of the verandah, and finding a seat in the shadow of the creepers, hid herself there and wept silently for Charley Cowper lying unburied outside the walls of Agpur, for Marian, bereaved of love and hope at nineteen, for the child that its father would never see, and a little for Honour Cinnamond, who had intended to do such great things, and was such a failure all round.
Lady Cinnamond spoke kindly to Gerrard, and expressed the hope that he would look in now and then, glancing the while from him to Honour as though anxious to find something in their faces that might guide her what to say, but in vain. In sheer bewilderment she appealed to her daughter when they were alone. "Tell me, Onora, did the poor fellow plead with you again to marry him?"
That moral suasion might be duly backed up by physical force, ten thousand British and Indian troops, under the command of a Peninsular veteran, General Sir Arthur Cinnamond, were garrisoning the citadel of Ranjitgarh and holding the lines of Tej Singh in the suburbs.
Not that she felt as yet quite at her ease with Lady Cinnamond. There was something that seemed to baffle her, a kind of regal willingness to hear all she had to say with courtesy, but with no promise to follow her advice. "You see, dear Lady Cinnamond," she went on, "how I am placed.
"I have done you harm tired you," she said anxiously. "We must have another talk when you are better. I see my mother looking for me." "Honour, it is time for us to go, dear," said Lady Cinnamond, coming in, and looking "like other people," as Mrs Jardine had said, in a huge halo of net and ribbon and flowers and blonde.
Sir Edmund had been looking at her as though she were a pigmy viewed from a mountain-top, so she told herself indignantly, but now his eyes flashed, and a tinge of colour crept into his sallow, haggard face. "If, as I understand, you have some influence with Mr Charteris, I would advise you, for his sake, not to make him acquainted with your views, Miss Cinnamond," he said coldly.
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