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Updated: June 16, 2025
He used to pour out to her his difficulties in the matter of profession choosing. There were thus various links between the Cunninghams and ourselves. Mr. Cunningham happened to call upon my father at Norwich, in the summer of 1850. With him came his eldest daughter by his second wife, Mary Richenda Cunningham, and there my brother saw her for the first time.
"Welcome back to school," she said, "back into the hungry army of youth!... Sh-h-h!" Again the music had begun. And sitting by her side he wondered whether it was because she knew that Laura's affair had made him feel old that Deborah had brought him here. They went to Edith's for supper. The Cunninghams' apartment was on the west side, well uptown.
I was certain that Alec had torn it out of the dead man's hand, and almost certain that he must have thrust it into the pocket of his dressing-gown. Where else could he have put it? The only question was whether it was still there. It was worth an effort to find out, and for that object we all went up to the house. "The Cunninghams joined us, as you doubtless remember, outside the kitchen door.
The Cunninghams and the Moors were face to face. The two fathers sat as if fixed upon their saddles for a few seconds, eyeing each other with looks of deadly hatred and ferocity, and recalling the days and the strife of other years.
In the feuds of Humes and Heatleys, Cunninghams, Montgomeries, Mures, Ogilvies, and Turnbulls, we find them inconspicuously involved, and apparently getting rather better than they gave.
They were in some ways the most important years of his life; but they were monotonous enough in external incidents. I may briefly say that his wife joined him at Calcutta in the beginning of March 1870, and accompanied him to Simla. They diverged to pay a visit on the way to the Cunninghams at Lahore.
"You have read about his death since, of course," he said. "Is he dead? No, I didn't know it." The birdlike eyes opened wider. "That's strange too." "It's on account of the mystery of his death that I'm troubling you, Mrs. Rankin. We want it cleared up, of course." "But two James Cunninghams haven't died mysteriously, have they?" she asked. "The nephew isn't killed, too, is he?" "Oh, no.
They were a gay party, coming back from a theatre supper, I suppose. And that reminds me: Philip Crawford sat right behind the Cunninghams. I forgot him before. Well, I guess that's all the West Sedgwick people I can remember." I went away not much the wiser, but with a growing thought that buzzed in my brain. It was absurd, of course. But he had said Philip Crawford had sat right behind Mrs.
He knew nothing about the relations of James Cunningham to his uncle, nor even that the younger Cunninghams or at least one of them had been in his uncle's apartment the evening of his death. He did not know that Rose had been there. Wherefore his deductions, even though they had the benefit of being trained ones, were of slight value in this case.
I had hardly got the paper, however which was, as I had expected, in one of them when the two Cunninghams were on me, and would, I verily believe, have murdered me then and there but for your prompt and friendly aid. As it is, I feel that young man's grip on my throat now, and the father has twisted my wrist round in the effort to get the paper out of my hand.
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