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Updated: June 9, 2025
Margaret raised this picture closer to her eyes, puzzling, in the diminished light, over the face of the girl nearest to Guy Dawnish bent above him in profile, while he laughingly lifted his head. No hat hid this profile, which stood out clearly against the foliage behind it. "And who is that handsome girl?"
Though slender, and still light of foot, she did not always move so quickly: hitherto, in her life, there had not been much to hurry for, save the recurring domestic tasks that compel haste without fostering elasticity; but some impetus of youth revived, communicated to her by her talk with Guy Dawnish, now found expression in her girlish flight upstairs, her girlish impatience to bolt herself into her room with her throbs and her blushes.
It was just a year since then the elms were budding again, the willows hanging their green veil above the bench by the river. But there was no trace of youth left in her face she saw it now as others had doubtless always seen it. If it seemed as it did to Lady Caroline Duckett, what look must it have worn to the fresh gaze of young Guy Dawnish?
For this, she told herself somewhat dizzily, was what it came to the summing-up toward which her conscientious efforts at self-collection had been gradually pushing her: with all this in reach, Guy Dawnish was leaving Wentworth reluctantly. "I was a bit lonely here at first but now!"
Every one was kind to Guy Dawnish some rather importunately so, as Margaret Ransom had smiled to observe but it was recognized as fitting that she should be kindest, since he was in a sense her property, since his people in England, by profusely acknowledging her kindness, had given it the domestic sanction without which, to Wentworth, any social relation between the sexes remained unhallowed and to be viewed askance.
Her husband had given her, that morning, two tickets for the ladies' gallery in Hamblin Hall, where the great public dinner of the evening was to take place a banquet offered by the faculty of Wentworth to visitors of academic eminence and she had meant to ask Dawnish to go with her: it had seemed the most natural thing to do, till the end of his visit came, and then, after all, she had not spoken....
Sperry departed Margaret had a confused impression that the course was to deal with the influence of the First Crusade on the development of European architecture but the sentient part of her knew only that Dawnish had not come. He "bobbed in," as he would have put it, after dinner having, it appeared, run across Ransom early in the day, and learned that the latter would be absent till evening.
"I heard such a funny thing yesterday about your friend Mr. Dawnish. Of course she asked about you and Mr. Ransom, and then she told me she had just seen Mr. Dawnish's aunt the clever one he was always talking about, Lady Caroline something and that they were all in a dreadful state about him. I wonder if you knew he was engaged when he went to America? He never mentioned it to us.
"My husband," she said, hastening forward; and she never afterward forgot the look of his back heavy, round-shouldered, yet a little pompous in a badly fitting overcoat that stood out at the neck and hid his collar. She had never before noticed how he dressed. THEY met again, inevitably, before Dawnish left; but the thing she feared did not happen he did not try to see her alone.
Margaret was in the study with her husband when the door opened and Dawnish stood there. Ransom who had not had time to dress was seated at his desk, a pile of shabby law books at his elbow, the light from a hanging lamp falling on his grayish stubble of hair, his sallow forehead and spectacled eyes.
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