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Updated: June 8, 2025
One morning while Lucy was preparing the household dinner, a message arrived from the cottage. Her presence was desired there immediately. Lucy lost no time, and was soon in her accustomed seat at the bed-head. Mrs Damerel placed a letter in her hands. It was from her son.
If you wish me to speak to you again you must speak first. And he left her, Fanny laughing scornfully. It drew towards one o'clock when, having exhausted the delights of the evening, and being in a decidedly limp condition, Mrs. Damerel and her protegee drove home. Fanny said nothing of what had passed between her and Horace.
Some day you will know better. Now, think, Horace; suppose you were so unhappy as to lose your father. Could you, as soon as he was gone, do something that you know would have pained him deeply? The pathetic note was a little strained; putting her head aside, Mrs. Damerel looked rather like a sentimental picture in an advertisement. Horace did not reply.
If so, if indeed she were going to act like any coarse woman, with no regard but for her own passions and Interests, he would at least have the consolation of expelling from his mind, at once and for ever, her haunting image. Mrs. Damerel, who during the past twelve months had changed her abode half-a-dozen times, now occupied private lodgings in Tyburnia.
There had been hope in Nancy's direction, as well as in her brother's; but the disclosure of Nancy's marriage, and Horace's persistency in unfriendliness, brought Mrs. Damerel to a sense of peril. One offer of marriage she had received and declined; it came from a man of advanced years and small property.
If I get thoroughly well again, there will be no need of this letter, and I shall tell you in private something that will astonish you very much. But if I were to die, it will be best for you to learn in this way that Mrs. Damerel is much more to us than our mother's sister; she is our own mother. She told me at the time when I was behaving like an idiot at Bournemouth.
'There can't be any doubt of it; I have been told on the best authority. She is in what they call the "club-room," a superintendent. It's a queer thing; what can have led her to it? 'I must make inquiries, said Mrs. Damerel, with an air of concern. 'How sad it is, Mr.
Perhaps it would make no difference one way or another. Mrs. Damerel was strikingly, yet becomingly, arrayed. The past year had dealt no less gently with her than its predecessors; if anything, her complexion had gained in brilliancy, perhaps a consequence of the hygienic precautions due to her fear of becoming stout.
'A decent man, said the listener, 'would never have allowed her to fall into disgrace. 'Certainly not, Crewe assented with energy. 'And as for my keeping quiet about it, Mrs. Damerel, you've only to think what an awkward affair it was to mention. I'm quite sure you'll have a little feeling against me, because I knew of it
He looked away, and said nothing. 'My dear, do you know her character? 'What about her? The tone was startling, but Mrs. Damerel kept firm, though agitated. 'She has led the most disgraceful life. I heard about her half a year after she ran away, but of course I wouldn't tell you such painful things. Horace reddened with anger. 'And who is to blame for it? he cried passionately.
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