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Updated: September 22, 2025
Leam had made it her hiding-place ever since madame had taken her in hand to teach her the correct pronunciation of Shibboleth, and she had escaped from her teaching and run away into the wood, armed banditti and wild beasts notwithstanding. And one day, hunting in it for fungi, Alick Corfield had found her sitting there, and thenceforth they had shared the retreat between them.
As nothing more was to be got out of Leam at this moment, and as Mrs. Corfield knew that Alick would be impatient, they went into the drawing-room together, Leam carrying her basket of spring flowers for her old friend. It was pitiful to see the poor fellow.
Corfield, a man shut up in his laboratory with piles of extracts, notes, arguments, never used, but always to be used, an experimentalist deep in many of the toughest problems of chemical analysis, but neither ambitious nor communicative, was the one peaceable element in the house.
Corfield, please," said Alick; and Jenny, telling him to "gang intilt parlor," scuffled off to Keziah, pottering over some pickled red cabbage, which made the house smell like a vinegar-cask. "I've heard tell of you," said Miss Gryce as she came in wiping her hands on a serviceable and by no means luxurious cloth: "Emmanuel wrote me a letter about you.
As a friend she was pleasant enough, with her quaint ways and pretty face; but as one of the Corfield family, bound to them for ever what then would she be? But again, if Alick really loved her, she would not like to see him disappointed.
Richard Corfield, an old schoolfellow and friend, to whose hospitality and kindness I was greatly indebted, in having afforded me a most pleasant residence during the "Beagle's" stay in Chile. The immediate neighbourhood of Valparaiso is not very productive to the naturalist.
W.H. Corfield, M.D., M.A., delivered before the Sanitary Institute of Great Britain, July 9, 1885.
But Leam, burning with shame, thought that she should never bear to see the sun again; and yet it was for Edgar, and for Edgar she would have done even more than this. "Have you enjoyed yourself, Leam, my dear?" asked Mrs. Corfield as they drove home in the quiet moonlight. "No yes," answered Leam, who wished that the little woman would not talk to her.
"Do you know anything of the Corfields, Sir George?" "Nothing at all," said George. "One hears of them sometimes from neighbours. They are said to be very lively folk. Miss Sewell will have a gay time." "Corfield?" said Lady Tressady, her head on one side and her cup balanced in two jewelled hands. "What! Aspasia Corfield! Why, my dear George one of my oldest friends!"
"What can a chit of a thing like you have to do? Come with us, I tell you." Mrs. Corfield said this heartily rather than roughly, though really she could not be bothered, as she said to herself, to stand there wasting her time in arguing with a girl like Leam. It was too ridiculous. Leam looked at her with mingled tragedy and contempt, and disdained to answer.
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