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Updated: June 7, 2025
The property of Colonel Davies-Evans of Highmead. Written in 1897. It was a characteristic saying of Talleyrand that no one could conceive how pleasant life was capable of being who had not belonged to the French aristocracy before the Revolution.
"I've been reading so much about you," said that young lady, with a sweet smile. "But you shouldn't be so independent, you know, you really shouldn't." He smiled back. "I'm only independent till they come to my way of thinking." Lady Chelmer gasped. "Then you still have hopes of Highmead!" "I won a moral victory there each time, Lady Chelmer." "How so, sir?" put in the Marquis.
According to the state of the weather, the friends either sat talking in Ivy's room or rambled about the grounds, where many a pretty and sheltered spot was discoverable. At such times the master of the house seldom showed himself, and, on the whole, Highmead reminded one of a mansion left in the care of servants whilst the family are abroad.
But the social advantages accruing to the wife of an M.P. impressed her very strongly indeed. For such an end she was willing to make sacrifices, and the first of these declared itself in an abandonment of her opposition to Mr. Eustace Glazzard. Her husband pointed out to her that a connection with the family so long established at Highmead would be of distinct value.
Walter Bassett's many enemies declared that the young Cabinet Minister owed his career entirely to his wife. His admirers indignantly pointed out that he had represented Highmead for two sessions before he met Miss Roan.
Something less than a year after his marriage, Glazzard was summoned back to England by news of his brother's death. On the point of quitting Highmead, with Ivy, for a sojourn abroad, William Glazzard had an apoplectic seizure and died within the hour. His affairs were in disorder; he left no will; for some time it would remain uncertain whether the relatives inherited anything but debt.
"And why doesn't he invite you to London, and take you to see people?" "Oh, he knows me better than that!" replied Ivy, with a laugh. Whilst the girls talked thus, Eustace Glazzard and his brother were also in confidential chat. They had gone to the library and made themselves comfortable with cigars a cellaret and glasses standing within reach. The rooms at Highmead gave evidence of neglect.
Next Monday is the seventh anniversary of our wedding." "Is it? But what has that to do with your speech at Highmead?" "Everything." He smiled mysteriously, then went on softly, "Amber, do you remember our honeymoon?" She smiled faintly. "Oh, I haven't quite forgotten." "If you had quite forgotten the misery of it, I should be glad." "I have quite forgotten." "You are kinder than I deserve.
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