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Updated: June 19, 2025
By and by her efforts were rewarded; she not only grew calm, but fell asleep, and slept like any baby till the gong sounded for luncheon. Luncheon proved a very silent meal; it was, if possible, more trying that breakfast had been. Mrs. Fane-Smith had heard all about the interview from her husband, and they were both perplexed and disturbed.
Cuthbert chuckled to himself, for he thought he had caught Mrs. Fane-Smith tripping, and he was a man who derived an immense amount of pleasure from making other people uncomfortable. As a child, he had been a tease; as a big boy, he had been a bully; as a man, he had become a malicious gossip monger.
It was chiefly about the sayings and doings of people whom she did not know, and the doings of some clergyman in a neighboring town seemed to receive severe censure, for Mr. Fane-Smith stigmatized him as "A most dangerous man, a Pelagian in disguise." However, he seemed to be fond of labeling people with the names of old heresies, for, presently, when Rose said something about Mr.
Fane-Smith saw more and more plainly that the niece whom his wife was so anxious to adopt was by no means his ideal of a convert. Of course he was really and honestly thankful that she had adopted Christianity, but it chafed him sorely that she had not exactly adopted his own views.
Fane-Smith. "Why, every one in England knows it." "If you accept mere hearsay evidence, you may believe anything of any one. Have you ever read any of my father's books?" "No." "Or heard him lecture?" "No, indeed; I would not hear him on any account." "Have you ever spoken with any of his intimate friends?" "Mr. Raeburn's acquaintances are not likely to mix with any one I should know."
Fane-Smith, or, as she had been called in her maiden days, Isabel Raeburn, was remarkably like her daughter in so far as features and coloring were concerned, but she was exceedingly unlike her in character, for whereas Rose was vain and self-confident, and had a decided will of her own, her mother was diffident and exaggeratedly humble.
Fane-Smith could not have refused anything which she asked him; there was something in her manner that made the tears rush to his eyes though he was not, as a rule, easily moved. He followed her obediently though with a sort of reluctance; but when he was once there he was glad.
The professor, who had looked in on his way home from the lecture to borrow a review, was browsing contentedly among the books on the table with the comfortable sense that he might justifiably read in a desultory holiday fashion. It was upon this peaceful and almost Sabbatical group that a disturbing element entered in the shape of Mr. Fane-Smith.
"Not personally, but I shall always honor him for the splendid speech he made last year on religious toleration," said Erica. Mr. Fane-Smith raised his eyebrows for the same speech had made him most indignant.
Please bring your pretty niece instead. Yours sincerely, Caroline Kiteley." Mrs. Fane-Smith was glad and sorry at the same time, and very much perplexed. Such a peremptory but open-hearted invitation could not be declined, yet there were dangers in the acceptance.
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