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Updated: May 15, 2025
There was somebody approaching her room evidently on tiptoe. Some one knocking very gently. She sat up, trembling. "Come in!" The door opened and there was Coryston. She fell back on her cushions, astonished and annoyed. "I said I was not to be disturbed, Coryston." He paused on the threshold. "Am I disturbing you? Wouldn't you like me to read to you or something?"
A sight which roused in him afresh on the instant all his fiercest animosities. That fellow! and his creed! That old hide-bound inquisitor, his father! Well! he peered at them has she got anything whatever out of young Tartuffe? Not she! He knew the breed. He rose discreetly, so as not to wake Lady Coryston, and standing by the window, he watched them across the garden, and saw their parting.
"The poor people here or most of them are used to her, and in a way respect her. They take her as inevitable like the rent or the east wind; and when she sends them coal and blankets, and builds village halls for them, they think they might be worse off. On the other hand, I don't see that Coryston makes much way among them.
The Chaplain frowned. "Lord Coryston is making enemies in all directions," he said, hastily. "I understand that a letter Lord William received from him last week was perfectly outrageous." "What about?" asked Sir Louis. "A divorce case a very painful one on which we have found it necessary to take a strong line."
There's generally some excellent reason for martyrizing them." He broke off looking at her with a clouded brow. "Marion!" She turned with a start, the color flooding her plain, pleasant face. "Yes, Lord Coryston!" "If you're so critical of my clothes, why don't you come and look after them and me?" She gasped then recovered herself. "I've never been asked," she said, quietly. "Asked!
And now, as to Coryston " She turned to him, facing him magnificently, though not, as Marcia was certain, without trepidation. Coryston flung back his head with a laugh. "Ah, now we come to it!" he said. "The rest was all 'but leather and prunella." James murmured, "Corry old man?" Marcia flushed angrily.
There was a half-witted girl in the village, ill-treated and enslaved by a miserly old aunt. Miss Coryston happened to hear of it from her maid, who was a relation of the girl. She went and bearded the aunt, and took the girl away bodily in her pony-cart.
The agent was still a young man, not much over forty, ruddy, good-looking, inclined to be plump, and possessed of a manner calculated to win the confidence of any employer. He looked the pink of discretion and capacity, and Lady Coryston had never discovered in him the smallest flaw with regard to any of the orthodoxies she required, political or religious.
And all the time all the time the handsome, repellent creature was holding Arthur's life and Arthur's career in the hollow of her hand! Well, she would not hold them so for long. Lady Coryston said to herself that she perfectly understood what Miss Glenwilliam was after.
"Then Mr. Lester knows," she thought, indignantly. "Just like Corry!" And her pride revolted against the notion of her brothers discussing her mother's actions, her mother's decisions, with this stranger in the house. It was quite true that Mr. Lester had been a friend both of Arthur and of Coryston at Oxford, and that Arthur in particular was devoted to him.
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