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Updated: May 3, 2025
He stood panting and white, in front of his father. "The right of truth!" said Barron. "It happens to be true." "Your grounds?" "The confession of the woman who nursed her mother who was not Lady Fox-Wilton."
It had been necessary to warn the lady that in the case of such a pensionnaire as Hester the male sex might give trouble; and Hester had not yet signified her gracious consent to go. But she would go she must go and either he or Alice Puttenham would take her over and install her. Good heavens, if one had only Edith Fox-Wilton to depend on in these troubles!
"I mean" the answer was increasingly deliberate "that Hester Fox-Wilton it is very painful to have to go into these things, but it is necessary, I regret to say is not a Fox-Wilton at all and has no right whatever to her name!" Stephen walked up to the speaker. "Take care, father! This is a question of a girl an unprotected girl! What right have you to say such an abominable thing!"
As for Philip Meryon, he was, of course, now and always, a man of vicious habits and no scruples. He seemed to be staying at Sandford with the usual crew of flashy, disreputable people, and to allow Hester to run any risks with regard to him would be simply criminal. Yet with so inefficient a watch-dog as Lady Fox-Wilton, who could guarantee anything?
The accustomed eye knew them for the chimneys of the Fox-Wiltons' house, owned now, since the recent death of its master, Sir Ralph Fox-Wilton, by his widow, the sister of the lady with the cat and the embroidery, and mother of many children, for the most part an unattractive brood, peevish and slow-minded like their father.
Her silence had been heavily and efficiently bought for fifteen years. Then steps had been taken insisted upon by Sir Ralph Fox-Wilton. His wife and his sister-in-law had opposed him in vain. And Ralph had after all triumphed in Judith's apparent acquiescence.
Lady Fox-Wilton and Miss Alice here have been keeping a close eye on Hester herself, I know; but if she chose, she could elude us all!" "She couldn't give such pain such trouble!" cried Mary indignantly. The Rector shook his head sadly. Then he looked at his companion. "Has she made a friend of you? I wish she would." "Oh! she doesn't take any account of me," said Mary, laughing.
"This poor lady's name, I understand, sir," said the gray-haired Coroner, addressing Meynell, when the first preliminaries were over, "was Miss Hester Fox-Wilton; she was the daughter of the late Sir Ralph Fox-Wilton; she was under age; and you and Lady Fox-Wilton who is not here, I am told, owing to illness were her guardians?" Meynell assented.
She thought herself quite alone this quiet afternoon, and likely to remain so. Hester, who had been lunching with her, had gone shopping into Markborough with the schoolroom maid, and was afterward to meet Sarah and Lulu at a garden party in the Cathedral Close. Lady Fox-Wilton had just left her sister's house after a long, querulous, excited visit, the latest of many during the past week.
Meynell presently said, in a tone of reverie, amid the cloud of smoke that enveloped him. Then, in another voice, "What do you hear of the daughter? I remember her as a little reddish-haired thing at her mother's side." "Miss Puttenham has taken a great fancy to her. Hester Fox-Wilton told me she had seen her there. She liked her." "H'm!" said the Rector.
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