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Updated: May 4, 2025
"I feel rather confused by all these wonders, and indeed I think that they have affected my nerves a little. Besides, it is time that I returned to my prosaic Elmdene, if I can find my way out of this wilderness to which you have transplanted me. But would you ease my mind, Mr. Haw, by showing me how this thing is done?" "It is the merest toy a complex plaything, nothing more. Allow me to explain.
His horrid causeless mirth was more terrible even than his fury. "What shall we do with him?" asked Haw. "We cannot take him back to Elmdene. It would be a terrible shock to Laura." "We could have doctors to certify in the morning. Could we not keep him here until then? If we take him back, some one will meet us, and there will be a scandal." "I know.
While father and son were prying into his secrets, Raffles Haw had found his way to Elmdene, where Laura sat reading the Queen by the fire. "I am so sorry," she said, throwing down her paper and springing to her feet. "They are all out except me. But I am sure that they won't be long. I expect Robert every moment." "I would rather speak with you alone," answered Raffles Haw quietly.
He raised his hat and continued down the road, while the vicar turned off into the path which led to his home. Robert McIntyre had converted a large bare room in the upper storey of Elmdene into a studio, and thither he retreated after lunch.
I hope that it will not be your last visit by many a one. And if I may come down to Elmdene I should be very glad to do so. This is the way through the museum." As Robert McIntyre emerged from the balmy aromatic atmosphere of the great house, into the harsh, raw, biting air of an English winter evening, he felt as though he had been away for a long visit in some foreign country.
Small and sordid and mean seemed his own Elmdene as he approached it, and he passed over its threshold full of restless discontent against himself and his surroundings. That night after supper Robert McIntyre poured forth all that he had seen to his father and to his sister. So full was he of the one subject that it was a relief to him to share his knowledge with others.
Beneath him to the north lay the village of Tamfield, red walls, grey roofs, and a scattered bristle of dark trees, with his own little Elmdene nestling back from the broad, white winding Birmingham Road. At the other side, as he slowly faced round, lay a vast stone building, white and clear-cut, fresh from the builders' hands.
Leave me alone, and I hope that you will never cross our threshold again." "Is that your last word, Laura?" "The last that I shall ever speak to you." "Then, good-bye. I shall see the Dad, and go straight back to Plymouth." He waited an instant, in hopes of an answer, and then walked sadly from the room. It was late that night that a startled knocking came at the door of Elmdene.
How could he manage to lift the burden from them, and yet not hinder them in their life aim? For more and more could he see that all refinement is through sorrow, and that the life which does not refine is the life without an aim. Laura was alone in the sitting-room at Elmdene, for Robert had gone out to make some final arrangements about his father.
Haw gave Laura an engagement ring of old gold, with a great blazing diamond bulging out of it. There was little talk about the matter, however, for it was Haw's wish that all should be done very quietly. Nearly all his evenings were spent at Elmdene, where he and Laura would build up the most colossal schemes of philanthropy for the future.
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