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Updated: May 4, 2025
It was an effect as of something over-living, over-brilliant an animation, an intensity, so strong that, at first beholding, a by-stander could scarcely tell whether it pleased him or no. "Mademoiselle Le Breton Sir Wilfrid Bury," said Jacob Delafield, introducing them. "Is she French?" thought the old diplomat, puzzled. "And have I ever seen her before?"
Between them, around them hovered thoughts of the past of Warkworth, of the gray Channel waves, of the spiritual relation which had grown up between them in Switzerland, mingled with the consciousness of this new, incalculable present, and of the growth and change in themselves. "You'd give it all up?" said Delafield, gently, still holding her at arm's-length.
"There's no danger of my going," he told them. "The Cummings people are not sending cub salesmen to promote their big Asiatic trade. What could they make by it?" Then the talk drifted to the Carbrooks. Marty said, "Well, we've spoiled your scheme a little, J.W., right here in Delafield. Joe Carbrook and Marcia are in China by now, and I'd like to see both of 'em as they get down to work.
They got together, and out of that first simple discussion came all sorts of new difficulties for Delafield Methodism to face and master. Manford Conover was a preacher with a business man's training and viewpoint. He may have mentioned his official title, when he first appeared, but nobody remembered it.
Some have come just to be coming, and others seem to be here for business. But I saw Joe Carbrook just now, and if he is an Epworth Leaguer I am the Prince of Puget Sound. You know how he stands at home. Wonder what he came for." Just then Joe Carbrook himself came up. He was from Delafield too, member of the same League chapter as the two chums, but he had rarely condescended to league affairs.
Delafield, perfectly master of his instrument and the music, fixed his eye on the countenance of Charlotte, and he experienced a thrill at his heart as he witnessed her lovely face smiling approbation, while his fingers glided over the flute with a rapidity and skill that produced an astonishing variety and gradation of sounds.
"She consults him about her memoir of her husband." "Memoir of her husband!" Sir Wilfrid stopped short. "Heavens above! Memoir of Lord Henry?" "She is half-way through it. I thought you knew." "Well, upon my word! Whom shall we have a memoir of next? Henry Delafield! Henry Delafield! Good gracious!"
Her mental attitude toward him was contemptuous and perfectly polite. With the reputation of possessing a dangerous fascination one of those reputations which can only emanate from the man himself M. de Chauxville neither fascinated nor intimidated Miss Delafield. He therefore disliked her intensely. His vanity was colossal, and when a Frenchman is vain he is childishly so.
But the total of folly and evil was very great; could the church do anything to decrease it? And that question led the little company of inquisitive Christians into yet wider reaches of inquiry. J.W. and Joe and Marcia at Mr. Drury's suggestion agreed to be a sort of unofficial committee to find out about the churches of Delafield. He told them that this was first of all a work for laymen.
We don't believe he has slept at all for a week." "Through there," said Susan Delafield, stepping back. "That is the door." Julie softly opened it, and closed it behind her. Delafield had heard her approach, and was standing by the table, supporting himself upon it. His aspect filled Julie with horror. She ran to him and threw her arms round him.
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