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Updated: May 5, 2025
"I hope they've made you as comfortable as possible, Mr. Green. I've brought a friend of yours with me, and I have a message from another friend of yours, Miss Grant. She says she will pay you a visit whenever you like to see her." Derrick shook his head. "I don't want her to come here," he said. "But I'm very glad to see Mr. Clendon." "By the way," cut in Mr.
Derrick hesitated for a moment; then he remembered Donna Elvira's injunction that he should bear his assumed name while in London. "Sydney Green, sir." "And you have come from abroad?" said Mr. Clendon. "I can see that by your tanned face, by the character of your attire." "From South America," said Derrick. "I am here on a mission, on business for an employer.
Derrick felt strangely drawn towards the old man, but told himself that it was because Mr. Clendon was a friend of Celia's Derrick had already learned to call her 'Celia' in his mind. Then the fact that she was librarian to Lord Sutcombe recurred to him.
"I'm all alone in the world for the present," he added, his eyes shining with the hope that glowed in his breast. "That is a strange statement," said Mr. Clendon, his brows raised, his eyes fixed on Derrick's face. "But it's true, unfortunately," said Derrick. "I must be going now, sir. Let me see, Waterloo is the station for Thexford. I'll go there and wait for the first train."
"Yours is a madness common to youth, and befitting it well," said Mr. Clendon. "That you should love her is not strange; she is all that you say of her. Are you sure that you are worthy of her?" "Good lord, no!" exclaimed Derrick, impetuously.
It is just, 'It is all right." "Certainly," said Mr. Clendon, without the least sign of curiosity, though his piercing eyes had been watching her face. "Will you write to me, and tell me how you get on at what is the name of the place? ah, yes, Thexford?" "Why, of course I will. I will write and tell you everything," said Celia, promptly, gratefully.
I am afraid I cannot tell you any more; I've only just arrived and am staying at the Imperial in Western Square. If you think I have told you sufficient, if you can trust me, I shall be very grateful if you will give me Miss Grant's address. I wish I could convince you that I am asking it from no unworthy motive." "You have already done so," said Mr. Clendon, quietly. "I will give you her address.
"We are all mad, more or less, Talbot," rejoined Mr. Clendon, with the flicker of a grim smile on his thin lips. "But this young girl I have taken her misery to heart. If you had seen her as I have seen her but you haven't, and I have to try to impress her case on you, enlist your sympathies, as well as I can. She is a lady, not by birth, perhaps, but by instinct and training.
Clendon the Marquess would see him. The old man rose, with the aid of a stick, and followed her through the hall; he looked about him, not curiously, but musingly; and he paused for a second or two before the portrait of the young man in hunting kit, the Marquess's elder brother; the pause was almost imperceptible, but Celia, remembering the scene between herself and the Marquess on the night of his arrival, noticed the pause; but the old man's face conveyed nothing and was as impassive as usual.
Wishing to see their war-dances, I requested the chief Pomare to gratify us with an exhibition, which he consented to do. The ground chosen was the hillside of Mr. Clendon, our consul's place, where between three and four hundred natives, with their wives and children, assembled. Pomare divided the men into three parties or squads, and stationed these at some distance from each other.
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