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In any case, she was here, alone in Monte Carlo, with her child; poor, unhappy, working by day, crying by night. He must see her, at once at once. Yet what if it were not she, after all? If the name were a coincidence? There might be other Evelyn Cliffords in the world. It must be that this was another. His Evelyn had married a rich and titled Englishman. She was Lady Clifford.
The fortune accumulated by the hardy Clifford men, flogged out of crews and stained by the blood of primitive and dull savages the Cliffords were notorious for their brutal driving now served only to support Madra's debility and a horde of unscrupulous panderers to her obsession. "Edward Dunsack is in Salem," she continued; "and I've heard he has the most peculiar appearance.
Her errands finished, she stopped the taxi at a small chemist's shop which she had noticed before, not the one usually patronised by the Cliffords, but a smaller one about a mile away. It was neat and old-fashioned in appearance, with a row of majolica jars in the window. She went in briskly, resolved to show no nervousness and to state her request with perfect sang-froid.
In any case, she was here, alone in Monte Carlo, with her child; poor, unhappy, working by day, crying by night. He must see her, at once at once. Yet what if it were not she, after all? If the name were a coincidence? There might be other Evelyn Cliffords in the world. It must be that this was another. His Evelyn had married a rich and titled Englishman. She was Lady Clifford.
He said, solemnly, "These letters are written and were sent to Miss Lucy Muller by my son, Walter Clifford." Then, almost for the first time in his life, he broke down, and said, "God forgive him; God help him and me. The honor of the Cliffords is an empty sound." Lucy Monckton rose from her chair in genuine agitation. Her better angel tugged at her heartstrings.
The Cliffords stood on the northwestern edge of the plain near the statue of General Sedgwick, and from this point they could also see what was occurring in the depression toward the river. "Turn, Amy, quick, and see what's coming," cried Burt. Stealing up the hillside in solid column was another body of cadets.
Amy, from her open window, watched him as he steadily bent to the work, and she inhaled with pleasure the odors from the bleeding clover, for it was the custom of the Cliffords to cut their grasses early, while full of the native juices.
The De Cliffords held the Barony of Clifford in Herefordshire, and the extensive manor of Skipton in Yorkshire, when the grandson of Rosamond's father married a rich heiress, who brought him the Barony of Westmoreland, to which Brougham Castle belonged, and after that other lords of the race acquired estates by their marriages, so that the wealth and grandeur of the family had been continually increasing.
Its earliest owner was John de Veteripont, from whose family it passed by marriage into the hands of the Cliffords and Tuftons successively, and it is now the property of Sir John Tufton. Tradition records, but on what authority we know not, that Sir Philip Sidney wrote part of his "Arcadia" at this baronial mansion.
She had consented to have ten, for the sake of artistic arrangement at the table; "They should be pantaloons and petticoats alternate, you know," she had said to Martha, and had therefore asked the Cliffords. But the Cliffords could not come, and then she had declined to make any further attempt. Indeed, a new idea had struck her.
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