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Updated: June 22, 2025
Dyceworthy's observations with the contempt they deserved, his coarse allusion to Sir Philip Errington had wounded her more than she cared to admit to herself. Once in the quiet sitting-room, she threw herself on her knees by her father's arm-chair, and laying her proud little golden head down on her folded arms, she broke into a passion of silent tears.
"It is a wicked plot!" she then exclaimed, panting with excitement "a wicked, wicked plot! This afternoon Mr. Dyceworthy's servant came and brought Sir Philip's card. It said that he had met with an accident and had been brought back to Bosekop, and that he wished the Froeken to come to him at once. Of course, the darling believed it all and she grew so pale, so pale!
Dyceworthy's tea with all the punctilious care and nicety befitting the meal of so good a man and so perfect a saint. "She believed that by dealing nobly with all, all would show themselves noble; so that whatsoever she did became her."
Gueldmar heard her not he was looking towards a low pallet bed, on which lay, extended at full length, an apparently insensible form. "Has she been long thus?" he asked, in a low voice. "Since last night," replied the woman no other than Mr. Dyceworthy's former servant, Ulrika. "She wakened suddenly, and bade me send for you. To-day she has not spoken." The bonde sighed somewhat impatiently.
Dyceworthy's flabby face betokened the utmost horror. "Sir," he said gravely, "there are subjects concerning which it is not seemly to speak without due reverence. He knoweth His own elect. He hath chosen them out from the beginning. He summoned forth from the million, the glorious apostle of reform, Martin Luther " "Le bon gaillard!" laughed Duprez. "Tempted by a pretty nun!
Mr. Dyceworthy's face reddened visibly with excitement. "The gentlemen from the yacht," he murmured to himself, hastily settling his collar and cravat, and pushing up his cherubic wings of hair more prominently behind his ears. "I never thought they would come. Dear me! Sir Philip Errington himself, too! I must have refreshments instantly."
"If you will excuse us for twenty minutes or so, Mr. Dyceworthy," he said, "Lorimer and I want to consult a fellow here in Bosekop about some new fishing tackle. We shan't be gone long. Mac, you and Duprez wait for us here. Don't commit too many depredations on Mr. Dyceworthy's strawberries."
Errington muttered something not very flattering to Mr. Dyceworthy's intelligence, which escaped the hearing of his friends; then he said "Come along, all of you, down into the saloon. We want something to eat. Let the Gueldmars alone; I'm not a bit sorry I've asked them to come to-morrow. I believe you'll all like them immensely."
Dyceworthy's bland persuasive tones, echoing out with a soft sonorousness, as though he were preaching to some refractory parishioner. He listened attentively. "Oh strange, strange!" said Mr. Dyceworthy. "Strange that you will not see how graciously the Lord hath delivered you into my hands! Yea, and no escape is possible!
"Friendship is very rare. To be friends, one must have similar tastes and sympathies, many things which we have not, and which we shall never have. I am slow to call any person my friend." Mr. Dyceworthy's small pursy mouth drew itself into a tight thin line.
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