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Updated: June 17, 2025
'But I suppose ladies never say quite what they mean. 'Oh yes, they do. Well, then, I am not much enamoured of Mr. Cuningham's pictures. I like him, and my father likes his painting. 'Lord Findon admires that kind of thing? 'Besides a good many other kinds. Oh! my father has a dreadfully catholic taste. He tells me you haven't been abroad yet? Fenwick acknowledged it.
Their rooms, moreover, were still unlet. Her anxieties therefore were many, and it was with lively expectation that she watched the 'swells' grope their way upstairs to Mr. Fenwick's room. She always knew it must come right some day, with people like that about. Lord Findon and Eugénie mounted the stairs. The studio door was half-open. As they approached the threshold they heard Fenwick speaking.
By the time they were threading the slums of Seven Dials, she was talking rather fast and flowingly of Fenwick. 'You have brought the cheque, papa? 'I have my cheque-book. 'And you are quite certain about the pictures? 'Quite. 'It will be nice to make him happy, she said, softly. 'His letters have been pretty doleful. 'What has he found to write about? exclaimed Lord Findon, wondering.
Fenwick had been led so disastrously to entertain. 'Most shamefully and indefensibly my daughter has been made to feel herself an accomplice in Mrs. Fenwick's disappearance, wrote Lord Findon; 'the only amends you can ever make for your conduct will lie in new and vigorous efforts, even at this late hour, to find and to undeceive your wife.
He was a talkative Evangelical, like his mother; a partner in the brewery owned by his mother's kindred; and recently married to a Lady Louisa. After spending three days at the hotel, he suddenly said to Lord Findon, as he was mounting guard one night, while Eugénie wrote some letters: 'I say, pater, do you want Eugénie to marry that fellow Fenwick? Lord Findon turned uneasily in his bed.
He painfully remembered with what gentleness and chivalry Eugénie had always treated him personally on these occasions, with what anxious generosity she had tried to curb her father. But there had been no private conversation between them. Not only did they shrink from it; Lord Findon could not have borne it.
'By George, I think he's right, said Lord Findon, putting on spectacles. 'That right hand's certainly too big. 'In my opinion, it's not big enough, said Fenwick, doggedly. Welby withdrew instantly from the picture, and took up his hat. Lord Findon looked at the artist half angry, half amused. 'You don't buy her gloves, sir I do.
Then she and her father departed. Fenwick had felt their going as perhaps the sharpest pang in this intolerable winter. But he had scarcely answered her letter. What was there to say? At least he had never asked her or her father for money had never owed Lord Findon a penny. There was some small comfort in that. Nevertheless, it was of money that he thought and must think night and day.
'There's a great deal to see already, said Lord Findon. 'But, of course, do as you like. Eugénie, are you ready? 'Please! may I be exhibited? said Madame de Pastourelles to Fenwick, with a smiling appeal. He gave way, dragged the easel into the best light, and fell back while the two men examined the portrait. 'Stay where you are, Eugénie, said Lord Findon, holding up his hand.
All the same: he was not sure that he liked her, and while one hour he was all restlessness to resume his task, the next it was a relief to be temporarily quit of it. As for Lord Findon, except for a certain teasing vagueness on the business side of things, he had shown himself a good friend. Several times since the first variegated evening had Fenwick dined with them, mostly en famille.
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