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Updated: June 7, 2025


"Who asked you to take a ticket for that reading?" "I don't know, really Kate Dresham, I fancy. It was she who got it up." "It's just the sort of damnable vulgarity she's capable of! It's loathsome it's monstrous " His wife, without looking up, answered gravely, "I thought so too. It was for that reason I didn't go. But you must remember that very few people feel about Mrs. Aubyn as you do "

"Why, you don't suppose if he were alive he could ever hold up his head again, with these letters being read by everybody?" Mrs. Touchett protested. "It must have been horrible enough to know they'd been written to him; but to publish them! No man could have done it and no woman could have told him to " "Oh, come, come," Dresham judicially interposed; "after all, they're not love-letters."

"Then you MUST know who he is," cried Mrs. Armiger, with a triumphant air of penetration. Hartly and Flamel laughed and Dresham shook his head. "No one knows; not even the publishers; so they tell me at least." "So they tell you to tell us," Hartly astutely amended; and Mrs.

Flamel, for a wonder, was not there; but Dresham and young Hartly, grouped about the tea-table, were receiving with resonant mirth a narrative delivered in the fluttered staccato that made Mrs. Armiger's conversation like the ejaculations of a startled aviary.

"From the way you defend him, I believe you know who he is." Everyone looked at Dresham, and his wife smiled with the superior air of the woman who is in her husband's professional secrets. Dresham shrugged his shoulders. "What have I said to defend him?" "You called him a poor devil you pitied him." "A man who could let Margaret Aubyn write to him in that way? Of course I pity him."

"No that's the worst of it; they're unloved letters," Mrs. Touchett retorted. "Then, obviously, she needn't have written them; whereas the man, poor devil, could hardly help receiving them." "Perhaps he counted on the public to save him the trouble of reading them," said young Hartly, who was in the cynical stage. Mrs. Armiger turned her reproachful loveliness to Dresham.

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