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Updated: June 25, 2025
You have a very handsome, high-spirited daughter, but before I commit myself by falling in love with her, I want to make sure there was no tarnish on the late Mrs. Hunsden's wedding-ring. Captain Harold Hunsden is a proud man. How do you think he will like the style of that?" Mildred stood silent, looking distressed.
She wants me to marry Lady Louise, and I won't marry Lady Louise if she was the last woman alive. Milly, who was Miss Hunsden's mother?" "Her mother? I'm sure I don't know. I was quite a little girl when Captain Hunsden was here before, and Harrie was a pretty little curly-haired fairy of three years. I remember her so well.
He was a curious study to Sybilla as he went along, his hands invariably in his pockets, his hat pushed to the back of his head, whistling softly and meditatively. Every day she became more convinced he knew something of Harrie Hunsden's American antecedents, and every day she grew more gracious. But if Mr. Parmalee had his secrets, he knew how to keep them.
The first part of Hunsden's speech moved me not at all, or, if it did, it was only to wonder at the perversion into which prejudice had twisted his judgment of my character; the concluding sentence, however, not only moved, but shook me; the blow it gave was a severe one, because Truth wielded the weapon. If I smiled now, it, was only in disdain of myself.
From what I saw I concluded that Hunsden's ideas on that point corresponded with my own. While he removed from the centre-table to the side-board a few pamphlets and periodicals, I ran my eye along the shelves of the book-case nearest me.
I could not repress a half-smile as I said this; a similar demi-manifestation of feeling appeared at the same moment on Hunsden's lips. "Oh, I see!" said he, looking into my eyes, and it was evident he did see right down into my heart.
A half-blown rose from Miss Hunsden's bouquet bloomed in Sir Everard's button-hole, and it was Sir Everard's blissful privilege to fold Miss Hunsden's furred mantle around those pearly shoulders. The bleak morning breeze blew her perfumed hair across his eyes, as she leaned on his arm and he handed her into the carriage.
Hunsden's language now bordered on the impertinent, still his manner did not offend me in the least it only piqued my curiosity; I wanted him to go on, which he did in a little while. "This world is an absurd one," said he. "Why so, Mr. Hunsden?" "I wonder you should ask: you are yourself a strong proof of the absurdity I allude to."
Pray leave us now. To-morrow he will be himself again." It was quite evident that she was used to these attacks. The young men bowed respectfully and departed. Sir Everard was in little humor, as he went slowly and moodily homeward, for his mother's lecture. "There is some secret in Captain Hunsden's life," he thought, "and his daughter shares it.
The preparations were hurried on with amazing haste; the day was named, the bride-maids and guests bidden. Miss Hunsden's young lady friends were few and far between, and Mildred Kingsland and the rector's sister and twelve-year-old daughter were to comprise the whole list. The wedding-day dawned a sullen, overcast, threatening December day.
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