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Updated: June 3, 2025
To be seen with such a son in the crowded Oxford streets filled her with pride. She could have walked beside him for hours. At the college gate, Trix pinched her brother's arm. "Well, Duggy, say it!" "Say what, you little scug?" "'Thank God, I've got you out!" laughed the child, laying her cheek against his coat-sleeve. "That's what you're thinking. You know you are.
Then he got up, smiling, as the servant disappeared. "Well, Duggy, now's your chance. I'm a brute not to come and help you, my boy. But I've made such a mess of driving the family coach, you'd really better take a turn. I shall go out for an hour. Then you can come and report to me."
They beamed at him as they descended. The children were quite aware they were superfluous, and fell upon him with glee. "You don't want us, Duggy, we know! But we made mother bring us." "Mother, really you ought to have given me notice!" said her reproachful son. "What am I to do with these brats?" But the brats hung upon him, and his mother, "fat, fair and forty," smiled propitiatingly.
If he's properly treated, he'll get all right. Besides it was a pure accident. How could any of us know those broken pipes were there?" "Well, I shall be glad when we get Wood's opinion," said Meyrick gloomily. "It does seem hard lines on a fellow who plays that it should have been his hand. But of course as you say, Duggy it'll probably be all right.
If you want Duggy still to go into Parliament, and to be able to do anything for the younger ones, you'll keep an eye on her." Lady Laura, however, was too depressed to welcome the subject. The gong rang for dinner, and as they were leaving the room, Sir Arthur said "There are two men coming down to-morrow to see the pictures, Laura. If I were you, I should keep out of the way."
He was drawing deep, gasping breaths, the strong life in him wrestling still. But the helplessness, the ineffable surrender and defeat of man's last hour, was in his face. Falloden knelt down. "Father! don't you know me? Well soon carry you home. It's Duggy!" No answer. Radowitz had gone a few yards away, and was also kneeling, his face buried in his hands, his back turned to the father and son.
I say, Duggy, you do look jolly in those colours!" "Don't talk rot!" grumbled Falloden, but he winked at her in brotherly fashion, and Trix was more than happy. Like her mother, she believed that Douglas was simply the handsomest and cleverest fellow in the world. When he scolded it was better than other people's praise, and when he gave you a real private wink, it raised a sister to the skies.
"Duggy, don't be offended with me but did you ever want to marry Lady Constance Bledlow? You wrote to me about her at Christmas." Douglas gave a rather excited laugh. "It's rather late in the day to ask me that question." His father eyed him. "You mean she refused you?" His son nodded. "Before this collapse?" "Before she knew anything about it" "Poor old Duggy!" said his father, in a low voice.
Fifty-two years of life lived in that northern Vale of Eden; and what was there to show for them? in honest work done, in peace of conscience, in friends? Now that the pictures were sold, there would be just enough to pay everybody, with a very little over. There was some comfort in that. He would have ruined nobody but himself and Duggy.
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