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Updated: May 11, 2025
Mrs Ingleton, highly gratified, handed the beautiful letter first to her son, then to Mr Armstrong. Roger was hardly as taken with it as his mother. "Civil enough," said he, "and I dare say he means all he says; but I don't warm to the prospect of being cherished by him. Besides, there is something a trifle too neat in the way he invites his whole family to Maxfield. What do you think, Armstrong?"
"Rosalind," said her father, whose lunch was not agreeing with him at all, "it vexes me to see you interfere in matters in which you have no concern. It seems to me, my dear Eva," he added, addressing Mrs Ingleton, whom he had already taken to calling by her Christian name, "that these business questions had much better be left for discussion among ourselves, and not at the family meal."
Which do you prefer? I am telling the messenger to wait for an answer. To be frank, I have come to Liverpool on purpose to see you. Yours sincerely, The messenger came back without an answer. Father Robertson was out, but the note would be given to him as soon as he came home. That evening, just after nine o'clock, he arrived at the hotel, and sent up his name to Lady Ingleton.
Carmel held out a slim little hand, and Everard accepted it delicately, as if it had been that of a princess. "I'm still stunned," he remarked. "To think I should have been driving you all this time, and not have known you were Leslie Ingleton! I never chanced to hear your surname. I thought you were Mrs. Rogers' niece." "And so I am!" laughed Carmel. "At least she's my step-aunt, at any rate.
Ingleton was obviously lashing herself to fury. She could not imagine why, not realizing at that stage that she was the victim of a jealousy so fierce as to amount almost to a mania. She wondered if her father were watching them from the terrace, and contemplated getting up to join him, but hesitated to do so, reflecting that it might appear like flight.
He probably will never notice it; anyhow, please, whatever you do, don't tell him or any one alive where it came from, or that you ever heard a word from me or of me. I trust you as a gentleman. "Yours truly, "Roger Ingleton." "Well, sir," said the banker, who had watched the reading curiously, "does it not seem an important letter?" "I think so. It appears to be genuine, too, on the face of it.
"I did, thanks." "Well, sir?" "That was the question I was about to ask you. Excuse my saying it, but it was a very foolish note for a man in your position to write. Did Mrs Ingleton " "Mrs Ingleton has decided, on my advice, to send her son to Oxford. I have recently been there, and made inquiries." "Indeed!
Mrs Ingleton, however, ill as she was, was intent on celebrating the occasion in a manner becoming the hospitable traditions of the house of which her son was now the head, and accordingly, a large party of the neighbouring gentry was invited for the occasion. Among the uninvited guests one individual was anticipating the event with considerable interest.
I even got Jimmy out because I knew Mr. Leith was fond of him, threw them together, even tried to turn Mr. Leith into a sort of holiday tutor. Anything to take him out of himself. Later on, when Jimmy went back to England, I though I would try hard to wake up Dion Leith's mind." "Did you?" said Lady Ingleton, in her most languid voice. "I took him about in Stamboul.
"Oh, I'm willing enough. He's quite a decent chap so far as I know. I dare say he'd make her quite a good husband if she'd have him. But she won't. So there's an end of that." "Ridiculous!" exclaimed Mrs. Ingleton. "And, pray, why won't she?" "Why? Oh, because there's another fellow, of course. There always is," growled Ingleton. "Girls never fall in love with the right man.
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