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Updated: June 26, 2025
Felix!" said Marian, as her aunt Madeline kissed her in her little bed on wishing her good night. "Don't you, aunt Mad ?" And so it was that Christmas-day was passed at Noningsby. Christmas-day was always a time of very great trial to Mrs. Mason of Groby Park.
Evidently the spell had ceased to act after the tragedy which had overtaken its invoker. There was no trace of angel anywhere. "A man is known by the company he keeps." In the morning-room of his sister-in-law's house Groby Lington fidgeted away the passing minutes with the demure restlessness of advanced middle age.
The house being possessed by the royal party, was besieged and taken by Lord Grey, of Groby, and Sir John Gall, of Hopton brave officers in the service of the parliament, who, according to Whitelock, voted them a letter of thanks for this and other services.
Matthew Round, sitting in his comfortable arm-chair, and opposite to him sat Mr. Mason of Groby Park. Mr. Mason got up and shook hands with the Hamworth attorney, but Round junior made his greeting without rising, and merely motioned his visitor to a chair. "Mr. Mason and the young ladies are quite well, I hope?" said Mr. Dockwrath, with a smile.
And if I hear him snoring through those ridiculous thin-panelled walls, there'll be trouble." He did, and there was. Groby stood it for about two and a quarter minutes, and then made his way through the corridor into Spabbink's room. Under Groby's vigorous measures the musician's flabby, redundant figure sat up in bewildered semi-consciousness like an ice-cream that has been taught to beg.
After the first flush of annoyance had passed away, Groby laughed good-naturedly and admitted to himself the cleverness of the drawing. Then the feeling of resentment repossessed him, resentment not against the caricaturist who had embodied the idea in pen and ink, but against the possible truth that the idea represented.
Groby prodded him into complete wakefulness, and then the pettish self-satisfied pianist fairly lost his temper and slapped his domineering visitant on the hand.
Groby began to fume against the picture of himself as a foolish feathered fowl which his nephew's sketch had first suggested, and which his own accusing imagination was filling in with such unflattering detail. "I'll give the beastly bird away," he said resentfully; though he knew at the same time that he would do no such thing.
Mason of Groby Park. I shall not trouble the reader at present with much description of the young Masons. The eldest son was in the army, and the younger at Cambridge, both spending much more money than their father allowed them. Not that he, in this respect, was specially close-fisted.
As to that Sir Peregrine felt no doubt whatever. That Joseph Mason of Groby would recover his right to Orley Farm was to him a certainty. But how terrible would be the path over which she must walk before this deed of retribution could be done! "Ah, me! ah, me!" he said, as he thought of all this, speaking to himself, as though he were unconscious of his grandson's presence.
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