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Updated: May 22, 2025
The sight seemed to stir up some demon in Hadria's bosom. Fantastic, derisive were her comments on that excellent lady's most cherished principles, and on her well-known and much-vaunted mode of training her large family of daughters. "Only the traditional ideas carried out by a woman of narrow mind and strong will," said Lady Engleton. "Oh those traditional ideas!
Engleton interrupted. "Have you come down to see how I amuse myself during the long evenings? Perhaps you would like to come and play cut-throat. I'll play you for what stakes you like, and thank you for coming, if you'll leave the door open and let me breathe a little better air." "It is your own fault that you are here," Cecil de la Borne declared. "It is all your cursed obstinacy. Listen!
Professor Theobald shared her indifference for the poetic expression, but not for the reality expressed. "I quarrel with you about art," said Lady Engleton. "Art is art, and nature is nature, both charming in their way, though I prefer art." "Our old quarrel!" said the Professor.
Craddock Place was filled with guests just now, and Lady Engleton used her utmost persuasion to induce Hubert and Hadria to come to dinner, or to join the party, in the evening, whenever they could. Hadria shrank from the idea. It was adding another burden to her already failing strength.
"There would be plenty of room for a dozen unsociable monomaniacs like ourselves," said Mrs. Temperley. "I imagine you are a God-send to poor Mrs. Williams, the caretaker," said Joseph Fleming. "She is my gamekeeper's sister, and I hear that she finds the solitude in that vast house almost more than she can stand." "Poor woman!" said Lady Engleton. "Well, Mr.
"They rush to the rescue when they see the sentimental defences giving way," said Hadria. "If the 'sacred privilege' and 'noblest vocation' safeguards won't hold, science must throw up entrenchments." "I prefer the more romantic and sentimental presentment of the matter," said Lady Engleton. "Naturally.
A cousin of Lord Engleton was at the piano. He played an old French gavotte. "That is the finishing touch," added Lady Engleton, below her breath. "I should like to paint you and the curtains and Claude Moreton's gavotte all together." The performance was received with enthusiasm. It deepened Hadria's mood, set her pulses dancing.
One saw its offspring in the troops of thin white souls that hurry, like ghosts, down the avenues of Life. Again Professor Theobald's stealthy glance was directed towards Mrs. Temperley. "He is as determined to analyse me as if I were a chemical compound," she said to herself. "Perhaps we may as well join the group," suggested Lord Engleton.
"You shew your hand most frankly," she answered; "it almost disarms one." A few introductory chords sounded through the room. Hadria was sitting in front of the window, across which the pale green curtains had been drawn. Many eyes wandered towards her. "I should like to paint you just like that," murmured Lady Engleton; "you can't imagine what a perfect bit of harmony you make, with my brocade."
"You are in a mixed condition of feeling, I see," Hadria said. "I am not surprised. Our whole scheme of things indeed is so mixed, that the wonder only is we are not all in a state of chronic lunacy. I believe, as a matter of fact, that we are; but as we are all lunatics together, there is no one left to put us into asylums." Lady Engleton laughed.
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