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Updated: July 27, 2025
Gaythorne, and as he pointed out his favourite flowers, and descanted on their habits and peculiar beauties, Olivia listened with such intelligent interest, and asked such sensible and pertinent questions, that he was drawn insensibly into giving her a botanical lesson. They were so engrossed with their subject that it was almost an effort to break off when coffee was brought. Mrs.
"I try and repeat all you tell me, but, of course, I forget half. Very often Marcus helps me to remember he has read so much on these subjects, you see." Perhaps it was this artless speech that led to Mr. Gaythorne showing Marcus a case of curious insects, and Dr. Luttrell had been so fascinated, so utterly engrossed, that the old man, much flattered, had cordially invited him into the museum.
These were merely pot-boilers, as he called them little things he painted on the spur of the moment." "To me they are perfectly beautiful," returned Olivia. "Those two are so lovely that I could not choose between them. Please let me look at them a little longer, Mr. Gaythorne, I want to tell Aunt Madge about them."
Gaythorne," she said, earnestly, "if you knew how thankful we all are that you are better." "Thank you, thank you," he said, with a faint flush of pleasure. "You speak kindly and as though you meant it. Sit down, my dear, we must have a little talk together, you and I. If I ever get my boy back, if the breach between us is ever healed, it will be owing to you and Dr. Luttrell."
Gaythorne," in a soothing voice, "Alwyn loves you far too well ever to say or think such a thing." "I hope so I trust so, but I would rather not put his patience to the proof. My boy must be happy, or I can know no peace. 'If you will bring your wife here and stay with your old father I will never interfere with either of you, that is what I said to him.
Marcus, who had still much time on his hands, often spent a pleasant hour or two with his patient. Mr. Gaythorne lent him books, and gave him choice brands of cigars. Olivia was highly delighted at these evident marks of favour, but it troubled her that Mr. Gaythorne never liked them to come together.
I don't remember one ever crossing the threshold since poor Miriam had typhoid fever. The foot is swelling already, and it will be a job to get the boot off. Ah, I thought so" as Mr. Gaythorne winced and motioned her away "he will be afraid of one touching it!" "My husband lives just opposite the corner house with the red lamp in Harbut Street.
A lean, old hound, stretched on a tiger skin, turned its head and then rose stiffly and came towards her. As its slender nose touched her dress, she saw the poor thing was blind. The next moment a cheerful-looking, grey-haired woman hurried towards her, followed by two maids. "What is it that Phoebe tells me, ma'am; Mr. Gaythorne has met with an accident?
John Alwyn Gaythorne, widower," and here Mr. Gaythorne gave a short sardonic laugh. "Marcus! oh, Marcus!" exclaimed Olivia, coming into the room in her breezy fashion. "I have so much to tell you. Mr.
Gaythorne really seemed interested, and somehow he encouraged me to go on. If he had appeared bored or tired I should have stopped at once, but he seemed so curious about Aunt Madge, he even asked if she had a good doctor. Oh, dear, surely that is not Marcus going out!" as the street door opened; and now there were actual tears in Olivia's eyes.
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