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Updated: June 18, 2025
They seemed to him to have so little power of "playing the game" the old, old game of success that men understand so well; through compromise, cunning, give and take, shrewd and prudent dealing. A kind of heady blundering, when caution and a few lies would have done all that was wanted it was this he charged them with Lady Coryston especially. They were Arthur Coryston and Miss Glenwilliam.
And independently of the Glenwilliam affair, that is why, I think, in the end she preferred Coryston to Arthur, who will 'muddle through, not knowing whither, like the majority of his kind. "Marcia! in her black dress, beside her mother, looking down upon her with that yearning look! But not a word! There are things too sacred for these pages."
But when she knows about me!" Miss Glenwilliam threw up her hands. "You think she will change her mind again?" The girl took up a stalk of grass and nibbled it in laughing meditation. "Perhaps I oughtn't to risk his chances?" she said, looking sidelong. "Don't think about 'chances," said Marion Atherstone, indignantly "think about whether you care for each other!"
His worn, ill-fitting clothes, with their bulging pockets, the grasshopper slimness of his legs and arms, the peering, glancing look of his eternally restless eyes, were all of them displeasing to Enid Glenwilliam as she surveyed him. But she answered him with a smile. "Mayn't I?" He looked down on her, frowning. "Why should women set up a new want a new slavery that costs money?"
Sorely against her will, he had forced the lady to an interview, and in the blind rage of his utter defeat and discomfiture, he left her again in hot quest of that explanation with his mother which Enid Glenwilliam had honestly and vainly tried to prevent. Lady Coryston meanwhile was bewildered by his absence.
And in that spirit she rose to meet the stately lady in black, whom the Atherstones' maid-servant was showing across the garden. "Miss Glenwilliam, I believe?" Lady Coryston paused and put up her eyeglass. Enid Glenwilliam advanced, holding out her hand. "How do you do, Lady Coryston?" The tone was gay, even amused.
The door closed on her and Marcia. Then Coryston turned, laughing, to his brother Arthur, and punched him in the ribs. "I say, Arthur, old boy, you talked a jolly lot of nonsense this afternoon! I slipped into the Gallery a little to hear you." Arthur grew red. "Of course it was nonsense to you!" "What did Miss Glenwilliam say to you?" "Nothing that matters to you, Corry."
But before Marion had gone half across the lawn she came quickly back again. "Remember, Enid," her voice pleaded, "his mother's devoted to him. Don't make a quarrel between them unless you must." Enid smiled, and lightly kissed the face bending over her. "Did Lord Coryston tell you to say that?" Marion departed, silenced. Enid Glenwilliam waited.
Quite apart, however, from her own qualities and claims, Enid Glenwilliam was conspicuous as the only daughter of the most vigorously hated and ardently followed man of the moment the North Country miner's agent, who was now England's Finance Minister. "You saw who that young lady was?" said Mrs. Frant to Miss Glenwilliam. "I thought you knew her." "Marcia Coryston?
He had first made friends with the man who was now the powerful head of English finance, when Glenwilliam was the young check-weigher of a large Staffordshire colliery; and the friendship little known except to an inner ring was now an important factor in English politics.
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