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Updated: June 14, 2025
The rectory sat in its own ground, surrounded by high hedges; no one, without extraordinary pains, could spy upon its inmates, but, nevertheless, the privacy of those inmates must be guaranteed. So the shutters were closed and the shades drawn. "Well?" said I to Hephzy. "Well," said Hephzy, "it's better than I was afraid it was goin' to be.
I must bring her back. I stormed up and down the room, incoherently declaring my intentions and upbraiding Hephzy for not having sent the groom or the gardener to find me, for allowing all the precious time to elapse. Hephzy offered no excuse. She did not attempt justification. Instead she brought the railway time-table, gave orders that the horse be harnessed, helped me in every way.
"It was and is her secret and we rely upon you to keep it as such. We trust to your honor to tell no one, not even your son." "My son! Herbert? Why I must tell him! I must tell my wife." "You may tell your wife. And your son as much as you think necessary. Further than that it must not go." "Of course, of course. I understand. But an opera singer!" "She isn't a real opera singer," said Hephzy.
At last, having done everything except decline absolutely, I finally consented to enter the tournament. It is not easy to refuse to obey an imperial decree and Lady Carey was Empress of Mayberry. After accepting I returned to the rectory to find that Hephzy also had received an invitation. Not to play golf, of course; her invitation was of a totally different kind.
I'm scared to death that he and this Heathcroft man will have some sort of of a fight or somethin'. That would be awful, wouldn't it!" I did not answer. My apprehensions were not on Herbert Bayliss's account. He could look out for himself. It was Frances' happiness I was thinking of. "Hosy," said Hephzy, very seriously indeed, "there's somethin' else. I'm not sure that Mr.
But you said you didn't promise to do it." "I didn't promise anything. I couldn't promise not to follow her. I didn't believe I could keep the promise. But I sha'n't follow her, Hephzy. I shall not go to Leatherhead." Hephzy was silent for a moment. Then she said: "Why not?" "You know why.
But, whatever you do, don't tell them they look like Methodists; they wouldn't consider it a compliment." Hephzy was a Methodist herself and she resented the slur. "Well, I guess a Methodist is as good as an Episcopalian," she declared. "And they don't ACT like Methodists. Why, one of 'em smoked a pipe. Just imagine Mr. Partridge smokin' a pipe!" Mr.
She acknowledged my good-morning with a distant bow. Her illness had not quenched her spirit, that was plain. She attempted to rise, but Hephzy gently pushed her back upon the pillow. "You stay right there," she urged. "Stay right there. We can talk just as well, and Mr. Knowles won't mind; will you, Hosy." I stammered something or other.
His "toddy" splashed the back log, causing a tremendous sizzle. Before he could relieve his mind further, Hephzy appeared to announce that dinner was ready if we were. We were, most emphatically, so we went into the dining-room. Hephzy and Jim did most of the talking during the meal.
This time she sang them and Hephzy, sitting beside me in the darkest corner reached over and laid a hand on mine. "Her mother all over again," she whispered. "Ardelia used to sing those." Next day, on the tennis court, she played with Herbert Bayliss against Worcester and me, and seemed to enjoy beating us six to one.
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