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Updated: June 20, 2025
I went to a young man's rooms, and got shut up in his bedroom." "The deuce you did!" says Tom Esterworth, opening his eyes. "Yes," continues Beatrice, desperately, and crimson with shame and confusion; "and the worse of it is, that I left my sunshade in the sitting-room; and papa came in, and, of course, he did not know it was mine, and and he thinks he thinks "
Now, Tom Esterworth was a very important personage; he was the present head of the Esterworth family, and, as such, the representative of its ancient honours and traditions. He was a bachelor, and reigned in solitary grandeur at Lutterton Castle, and kept the hounds as his fathers had done before him.
"Dear me, I hope your father won't come in with his muddy feet and his hands covered with earth," said Mrs. Miller, nervously. Uncle Tom came in, a tall, dark-faced, strong-limbed man of fifty an ugly man, if you will, but a gentleman, and an Esterworth, every inch of him. He kissed his sister, and patted his niece on the cheek. "Why weren't you out to-day, Pussy?" "You met so far off, uncle.
"Indeed, I did very little," said Herbert, modestly, glancing at Beatrice who was trembling and rather pale; but, perhaps, that was only from her recent fright. She had not spoken to him, only she had given him one bewildered glance, and then had looked hastily away. "You have saved her life," repeated Mr. Esterworth, with decision. "I hope you do not mean to contradict my words, sir?
That was how Herbert Pryme came to be once more re-instated in the good graces of his lady love's father and mother. Mr. Esterworth contrived to give them so terrifying an account of the danger in which Beatrice had been placed, and so graphic and highly-coloured a description of Herbert Pryme's pluck and sagacity in rushing to her rescue, that Mr. and Mrs.
Esterworth in it unaccompanied by some personage in breeches and gaiters, wearing a blue spotted neckcloth and a horseshoe pin. Such an individual was receiving an audience at the moment of Miss Miller's arrival, and shuffled awkwardly and hurriedly out of the room by one door as she entered it by another. "All right, William," calls the M.F.H. after his departing satellite.
All this was, however, equally delightful and exciting both to Tom Esterworth and his niece. There was no apprehension in Beatrice's mind, for her uncle drove as well as he rode, and she felt perfectly secure in the strong, supple hands that guided Clochette's erratic movements.
It was a great rambling building with a central tower and four smaller ones at each corner. When Mr. Esterworth was at home, which was almost always, it was his vanity to keep a red flag flying from the centre tower as though he had been royalty.
You are an Esterworth all over." "But, uncle, indeed, it's no laughing matter." "Well, I don't see much to cry at if your father did not find you out; the young man is never likely to talk." "Oh, but uncle Tom; papa and mamma think so badly of him, and I can't tell them that I was there; and they will never let me marry him." "Oh! so you are in love, Pussy?" "Yes, uncle."
"You know, uncle Tom, mamma wanted him to marry me." "Beatrice, you should not say such things," said her mother, colouring. "Whew!" whistled Mr. Esterworth. "So that was the little game, Caroline, was it? John Kynaston has better taste. He wouldn't have looked at an ugly little girl like our pussy here, would he, Puss? Miss Nevill is one of the finest women I ever saw in my life.
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