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Updated: May 7, 2025
Frayling's thinking betraying much. She scented a situation some girlish attachment, budding affair of the heart. "My father gave Tom Verity letters of introduction, and he wanted us to know how kindly he had been received in consequence." "Most proper on his part," Mrs. Frayling said.
Frayling came upon Evadne unawares, and the shock it gave the girl to see her mother all miserably agitated and worn with worry, was a more powerful point in favour of the success of the latter's mission than any argument would have been. The poor lady was handsomely dressed, and of a large presence calculated to inspire awe in inferiors unaccustomed to it.
Miss Felicia's glance was of timid, slightly distressed, enquiry. "Yes," she said, "Mr. Wace has applied for the curacy. He and General Frayling were to have an interview with Canon Horniblow this afternoon. They dropped Mrs. Frayling here on their way to the vicarage, and sent the fly back for her. She talked a great deal about Mr. Wace and his immense wish to come here.
"But there isn't, there isn't," Damaris broke in, distressed beyond all calmness of demeanour. "You go too fast, Henrietta. You assume too much. Nothing is settled of of that sort. Nothing of that sort has ever been said." Mrs. Frayling raised her eyebrows, cast down her eyes, and fingered the bunch of trinkets hanging from her gold chain in silence for a few seconds.
Frayling read the letter through to herself, and then she put it down on the table and raised her handkerchief to her eyes with a heavy sigh. "Well, what does she say now," Mr. Frayling exclaimed, throwing down the local paper and giving way to his impatience openly. "Dear George" was perfectly cool. "She says," Mrs.
She stood at bay, white, strained, her lips quivering. "Do do you mean that I have behaved badly to Mr. Wace, Henrietta? That I have flirted with him?" Mrs. Frayling drew her mouth into a naughty little knot. There were awkward corners to be negotiated in these questions. She avoided them by boldly striking for the open.
I am very well, and happier too, than I should have expected to be after the shock of such a disappointment, though perhaps less so than I ought in gratitude to be, considering the merciful deliverance I have had from what would have been the shipwreck of my life. "Your affectionate daughter, "Good Heavens! good Heavens!" Mr. Frayling ejaculated several times.
It would be torment to say "yes"; and yet very difficult to say his best friend "nay." Anger kindled against Henrietta Frayling. Must this be regarded as her handiwork? Yet he could hardly credit it. Or had she some other candidate Peregrine Ditton, young Harry Ellice? But they were mere boys.
To conceal this was the one object of his life at present, the thought that forever absorbed him. Mr. Frayling felt that it would be a relief to get away from his son-in-law: "If the fellow would only speak!" he exclaimed when he was alone with his wife. "What the deuce he's always thinking about I can't imagine." "He is in great grief," Mrs. Frayling maintained.
"But the porter said he saw her get into a hansom," Major Colquhoun objected. "He said he saw a young lady in gray get into a hansom, I understood you to say," Mrs. Frayling corrected him. "A young lady in gray is not necessarily Evadne. There might be a dozen young ladies in gray in such a crowd." "There might, yes," Mr. Frayling agreed.
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