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Updated: June 7, 2025
As soon as ever you were gone, he called me into the library which always means he's going to talk over some dreadful business with me and he said to me, 'Frida, I've just heard from Phil that this man Ingledew, who's chosen to foist himself upon us, holds opinions and sentiments which entirely unfit him from being proper company for any lady.
But all that night long she never slept. Her head was too full of Bertram Ingledew. Yet, strange to say, she felt not one qualm of conscience for their stolen meeting. No feminine terror, no fluttering fear, disturbed her equanimity. It almost seemed to her as if Bertram's kiss had released her by magic, at once and for ever, from the taboos of her nation.
If she does not revive in a minute or two, I shall send for Ingledew" Ingledew was the village doctor "and in the meantime I'll act on my own responsibility." Certain reviving measures were tried by him, and apparently with success. The bluish whiteness of the girl's face changed to a more natural color, her teeth relaxed, her eyelids drooped.
Dear, dear that's very serious, is it not?" "Oh, not necessarily so! It may be a mere passing derangement produced by indigestion," said the doctor prosaically. "I will come in again to-morrow and sound her. I hope it is nothing more than a temporary indisposition." And so Mr. Ingledew took his leave. "Mrs. Vane didn't want me to see her!" he said, as he left the house. "I wonder why?"
We all have moments of weakness, even the most irreproachable Philistine among us; and as Bertram said those words in rather a piteous voice, it occurred to Philip Christy that the loan of a portmanteau would be a Christian act which might perhaps simplify matters for the handsome and engaging stranger. Besides, he was sure, after all mystery or no mystery Bertram Ingledew was Somebody.
Enid colored a little, and was silent for a moment; then she answered, in her usual gentle way "I had some disinclination a few days ago to consult a doctor, and perhaps Mrs. Vane has accidentally laid more stress upon my saying so than I intended. But I am quite willing now to consult Mr. Ingledew a little." She sank into a chair as if she were very tired, and for a moment closed her eyes.
Philip suggested, somewhat relieved; for he felt sure Bertram Ingledew must have told Miss Blake it was HE who had recommended him to Heathercliff House for furnished apartments. "Oh, dear, no; nothing," Bertram responded cheerfully. "Not a sack to my back. I've only what I stand up in.
Ingledew," she said, "now you're really TOO ridiculous!" Bertram coloured up like a boy. If she had been in any doubt before as to his sincerity and simplicity, she could be so no longer. "Oh, I forgot about the taboo," he said. "I'm so sorry I hurt you.
Frida felt the conversation was beginning to travel beyond her ideas of propriety, so she checked its excursions by answering gravely: "Oh, Mr. Ingledew, you don't understand our code of morals. But I'm sure you don't find your East End young ladies so fearfully particular?" "They certainly haven't quite so many taboos," Bertram answered quietly. "But that's always the way in tabooing societies.
Bertram Ingledew," and then trembled inwardly. It was a surprise to Bertram that the beautiful woman with the soul in her eyes should turn out to be the sister of the very commonplace young man with the boiled-fish expression he had met by the corner; but he disguised his astonishment, and only interjected, as if it were the most natural remark in the world: "I'm pleased to meet you.
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