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Updated: June 23, 2025
I tried so hard to get her to come to dinner to-night, and the Trowbridges' and the Barclays'. You've no idea how difficult it is in New York to get any one under two weeks. And so we've got just ourselves." Honora was on the point of declaring, politely, that she was very glad, when Lily Dallam asked her how she liked the brougham. "It's the image of Mrs.
Again they crossed the North River, and he led her through the wooden ferry house on the New Jersey side to where the Rivington train was standing beside a platform shed. There was no parlour car. Men and women mostly women with bundles were already appropriating the seats and racks, and Honora found herself wondering how many of these individuals were her future neighbours.
Honora repressed an impulse to comment on this incident. With his arm over her shoulder, he turned the pages idly, and the long lists of guests which bore witness to the former life and importance of Highlawns passed before her eyes.
"Old Stopford imposes a pretty heavy penalty." "Too heavy for you?" she asked, and smiled at him as she handed him the cup. "Too heavy for me," he said, returning her smile. "To tell you the truth, Honora, I had an overdose of church in my youth, here and at school, and I've been trying to even up ever since." "You'd like me to go, wouldn't you, Hugh?" she ventured, after a silence.
After lunch they repaired again to the bridge table, and at four Hugh went upstairs to change into his riding clothes. Five minutes longer she controlled herself, and then made some paltry excuse, indifferent now as to what they said or thought, and followed him. She knocked at his dressing-room door and entered. He was drawing on his boots. "Hello, Honora," he said.
Honora sat in the straight-backed seat of the smaller train with parted lips and beating heart, gazing now and again at the pearly mists rising from the little river valley they were climbing. Chiltern was like a schoolboy. "We'll soon be there," he cried, but it was nearly nine o'clock when they reached the Gothic station that marked the end of the line.
And to all of this information Uncle Tom would listen, smiling but genuinely interested, while he carved at dinner. One evening, when Uncle Tom had gone to play piquet with Mr. Isham, who was ill, Honora further surprised her aunt by exclaiming: "How can you talk of things other people have and not want them, Aunt Mary?" "Why should I desire what I cannot have, my dear?
She knew that it would have been wiser not to have mentioned Howard; but Peter's silence, somehow, had impelled her to speak. "He has made quite an unusual success for so young a man." Peter looked at her and shook his head. "New York success! What is to become of poor old St. Louis?" he inquired. "Oh, I'm going back next week," Honora cried. "I wish I were going with you."
Shorter called her up over the telephone, and she yielded. "I've got Alfred Dewing for myself," said Elsie Shorter, as she greeted Honora in the hall. "He writes those very clever things you've read them. And Hugh for you," she added significantly. The Shorter cottage, though commodious, was simplicity itself.
"I thought you couldn't stand Silverdale much longer," she replied. "You know why I stayed," he said, and paused again rather awkwardly for Mr. Spence. But Honora was silent. "I had a letter this morning from my partner, Sidney Dallam, calling me back." "I suppose you are very busy," said Honora, detaching a copper-green scale of moss from the boulder.
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