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Updated: May 22, 2025
Acting on that advice Lord de Mowbray had instructed his lawyers to appear to the action without entering into any unnecessary explanation of the merits of his case. He counted on the accuracy of Mr Hatton's judgment, that the claim would not be pursued; and he was right; after some fencing and preliminary manoeuvring, the claim had not been pursued.
He even saw the Kearney girl, with her loose red mouth, and her silly eyes, and she was as a strange woman to him. He was in Hatton's glittering automobile, being driven down Grand Avenue. There were speeches, and a dinner, and, later, when he was allowed to go home, rather white, a steady stream of people pouring in and out of the house all day.
Hatton had once anticipated, the idea that he had deprived Sybil of her inheritance had, ever since he had become acquainted with her, been the plague-spot of Hatton's life, and there was nothing he desired more than to see her restored to those rights, and to be instrumental in that restoration.
Hatton's pins were found secreted in his possession, though most of the money was gone, gambling, and that was all. He never knew that Mr. Holmes had tracked him all the way and rolled up a volume of evidence against him.
That Bacon loved Sir William Hatton's widow, and induced Essex to support his suit, and that rejecting him she gave herself to his enemy, we know; but history tells us nothing of the secret struggle which preceded the lady's resolution to become the wife of an unalluring, ungracious, peevish, middle-aged widower.
If we had no other evidence bearing on the point, knowledge of human nature would make us certain that the bar imitated Lord Chancellor Hatton's costume. At Gray's Inn, Francis Bacon was not singular in loving rich clothes, and running into debt for satin and velvet, jewels and brocade, lace and feathers.
Hatton's splendid health set off her splendid beauty, fine carriage, and sumptuous gown of silver-gray brocaded satin, emphasized by sapphires of great luster and value.
In the days of John's father men drank heavily of red wines and it was the recognized way for ladies to leave them awhile to discuss their port and politics. John Hatton's hospitality was of a more modern type, although it still preserved a kind of antique stateliness. And this night it had a very certain air of a somewhat anxious amusement.
The street door opened on to a staircase, and as I mounted it the sound of a piano and a singing voice reached me. At the top of the stairs I caught sight of a waiter loaded with glasses. I called to him. "Mr. Cloyster, sir? Yessir. I'll find out whether Mr. Malim can see you, sir." Malim came out to me. "Hatton's not here," he said, "but come in. There's a smoking concert going on."
After the service was over I found them at the Royal Hotel. Then I began to learn the sequence. The landlord of the Royal introduced it by informing me that Mr. and Mrs. John Hatton were not there, but that Sir John Hatton and Lady Hatton were staying at the Royal. They were delighted to see me again and for three days I was almost constantly in Lady Hatton's company.
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