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Updated: June 8, 2025
Leo rose haughtily, and a quick flush fired her cheek; but as she looked at the old woman's quivering mouth and streaming eyes, compassion arrested her displeasure. "Aunt Dyce, there are some things with which ladies should not meddle; and I cannot interfere with any gentleman's business affairs." "Oh, honey! if Miss Marcia was living, she wouldn't say that!
The old woman cried bitterly, and one thin hand, white as a snowflake, fell upon her bowed head, and softly stroked her black wrinkled face. After some minutes, when the paroxysm of weeping had spent itself, Dyce took the hand, kissed it reverently, and pressed into it a package. "The doctor tole me to put that into your hands.
"Not in detail," Dyce replied, rather nervously, for he could not with certainty interpret that stern look. "You will understand that that I was not at liberty that I had to respect " He came near to losing himself between the conflicting suggestions of prudence and hopefulness. At the sight of his confusion, Lady Ogram smiled grimly.
Constance rose, and he offered his hand. "Between us, it makes no difference, I hope?" said Dyce, with an emphasised effort of cheeriness. "Unless you think me a paltry fellow, ready to do anything to get on?" "I don't think that," replied Constance, quietly. "But you feel that what I was going to ask would have been rather a severe test of friendship?"
"Now and then," said Lashmar, his machine wobbling a little, for he had not yet perfect command of it, and fell into some peril if his thoughts strayed. "They want me to run over to Alverholme presently. Perhaps I may go next week." Constance was silent. They wheeled on, without speaking, for some minutes. Then Dyce asked: "How long does Lady Ogram wish me to stay here?" "I don't quite know.
There's no particular hurry; she's young enough still. And as for you, you've got your hands full." Dyce felt so puzzled that he could not shape a word. One thing was growing clear to him; but what did the old woman mean by her "position of trust?" How was Constance to be given her "chance?" And what' exactly, was she expected to do?
"That is right, Dyce; I am glad your opinion of my profession has forced you to such a sensible conclusion. Come, Bedney, no balking now." Perplexed by Dyce's tactics, Bedney stood irresolute, with his half-filled pipe slipping from his fingers; and he stared at his wife for a few seconds, hoping that some cue would be furnished. "Bedney, there's no use in being cantankerous.
As soon as possible, she would let Dyce Lashmar know that they must feign and temporise: the policy of courage looked all very well from a distance, but was quite another thing in the presence of the mistress of Rivenoak enraged. For a time, nothing could be done beyond cloaking what had really happened, and soothing Lady Ogram's wrath with apparent submission.
"Who the Dickens is that cad?" asked Mr. Bayley in smothered wrath, to Mrs. Dyce. "Why, don't you know? He's another friend of Polly's," said Mary Taylor Dyce, smiling up sweetly into his face, "and he's going down to help entertain Phronsie's poor children. Isn't he nice?" "Nice?" repeated Livingston Bayley with a black look at the tall figure stalking on. "How do I know?
For the first time Bedney raised his eyes toward the place where Dyce sat near the prisoner, and he hesitated. He took some tobacco from his vest pocket, stowed it away in the hollow of his cheek, and re-crossed his arms.
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