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Elinor set him right as to its situation; and it seemed rather surprising to him that anybody could live in Devonshire, without living near Dawlish. He bestowed his hearty approbation however on their species of house. "For my own part," said he, "I am excessively fond of a cottage; there is always so much comfort, so much elegance about them.
But, anyway, this Lord Dawlish succeeded in doing it somehow, and then' her eyes blazed at the recollection 'he had the insolence to write to me through his lawyers offering me half. I suppose he was hoping to satisfy his conscience. Naturally I refused it. 'But but but why? 'Why! Why did I refuse it? Surely you don't think I was going to accept charity from the man who had cheated me?
"I hate anything B. C.! What does it matter to us how people lived in pile dwellings in the middle of a lake? To judge from those fancy pictures of them on the wall there they must have been a set of uncouth savages. Why can't we drive on to Dawlish, or some other decent seaside place, instead of poking about in musty cathedrals and tiresome museums? I'm fed up!"
He set off at a great speed towards Dawlish. Iris ran after him, caught his arm, clung to him. "Where are you going? You won't leave me?" "I'm going to London, of course," was his only reply, as he strode on. Running by his side, Iris told with broken breath of the offer of marriage she had received from Wrybolt not long ago.
Lord Dawlish had gone for a moonlight walk that night because, like Claire, he wished to be alone to think. He had fallen with a pleasant ease and smoothness into the rather curious life lived at Elizabeth Boyd's bee-farm. A liking for picnics had lingered in him from boyhood, and existence at Flack's was one prolonged picnic.
Your brother has gained my affections entirely, and as we could not live without one another, we are just returned from the altar, and are now on our way to Dawlish for a few weeks, which place your dear brother has great curiosity to see, but thought I would first trouble you with these few lines, and shall always remain "Your sincere well-wisher, friend, and sister,
You see, it was like this: Bill I mean Lord Dawlish is a great pal of mine, a dear old chap. You ought to know him. Well, being in the know, you understand, through your uncle having deposited the will with us, I gave Bill the tip directly I heard of Mr Nutcombe's death.
Fine weather, good food, and a complete abstention from classical dancing give her these and she asked no more. She was, moreover, delighted at Claire's engagement. It seemed to her, for she had no knowledge of the existence of Lord Dawlish, a genuine manifestation of Love's Young Dream. She liked Dudley Pickering and she was devoted to Claire.
Descending again, she found Jim Dawlish fixing a piece of mistletoe over the parlour door, and smiled at his occupation. He smiled at her in a fashion that sent the blood suddenly and hotly to her face, and she passed on to the kitchen, erect and quivering with anger.
The spirit of loneliness brooded on them. Elizabeth walked slowly back to the house. Nutty was coming towards her from the orchard. 'Halloa! said Nutty. He was cheerful and debonair. His little eyes were alight with contentment. He hummed a tune. 'Where's Dawlish? he said. 'He has gone. Nutty's tune failed in the middle of a bar. Something in his sister's voice startled him.
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