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Updated: May 3, 2025
"You can behave like a naughty, troublesome girl, without any proper feeling, of course! if you choose," said Lady Fox-Wilton warmly. "But I trust you will do nothing of the kind. We are your guardians till you are twenty-one; and you ought to be guided by us." "Well, of course I can't be engaged to Stephen, if you say I mayn't because there's Stephen to back you up.
The sense of physical illness, conquering the vague overwhelming anguish of heart and mind, began to give her back some clearness of brain. Who was she? why was she there? She was Hester Fox-Wilton no!
"There was one occasion" he said slowly "and one only, on which the ladies at Grenoble we will say it was Grenoble received a visitor. Miss Puttenham was still in her room. A gentleman arrived, and was admitted to see her. Mrs. Sabin was bundled out of the room by Lady Fox-Wilton. But it was a small wooden house, and Mrs. Sabin heard a good deal. Miss Puttenham was crying and talking excitedly.
Once or twice she caught her breath in what was very like a sob; and there were moments when she could only save herself from the disgrace of tears by a wild burst of racing with Roddy. It was evident that her brush with Lady Fox-Wilton had not left her as callous as she seemed.
"Did the woman have any real opportunity of seeing this visitor?" "When he went away, he stood outside the house talking to Lady Fox-Wilton. Mrs. Sabin was at the window, behind the lace curtains, with the child in her arms. She watched him for some minutes." "Well?" said Flaxman sharply.
"I haven't the smallest intention of meeting him. Come, Roddy!" The eyes of the two met in those of the older woman, impatience, a kind of cold exasperation; in Hester's, defiance. It was a strange look to pass between a mother and daughter. Hester turned away, and then paused: "Oh, by the way, mamma where are you going?" Lady Fox-Wilton hesitated unaccountedly. "Why do you ask?"
The remarkable language of Sir Ralph's will, the position of Miss Hester in the Fox-Wilton family, your relation to her and to to Miss Puttenham." Meynell's composure became a matter of some difficulty, but he maintained it. "What was there abnormal or suspicious in any of these circumstances?" he asked, his eyes fixed intently on his visitor.
Was that woman, that troublesome, excitable woman, whose knowledge had been for years the terror of three lives was she alive still? Ralph Fox-Wilton had originally made it well worth her while to go to the States. That was in the days when he was prepared to pay anything. Then for years she had received an allowance, which, however, Meynell believed had stopped sometime before Sir Ralph's death.
Scarcely a word was said of the troubles ahead. But it was understood that Mary would be in London to hear him preach at St. Hilda's. On the last day of Meynell's visit, Catharine, greatly to her surprise, received a letter from Hester Fox-Wilton. It contained a breathless account of an evening spent in seeing Oedipus Rex played by Mounet Sully at the Comedie Francaise.
As to its prima facie absurdity, I desire to say nothing offensive to you, but there have been many curious circumstances connected with your relation to the Fox-Wilton family which have given rise before now to gossip in this neighbourhood. I could not but perceive that the story told me threw light upon them.
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