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Updated: May 15, 2025
Such perfect sympathy induces a free outpouring of inner thoughts, and reinforces the opinions of which it so unreservedly approves. Cynthia did more than elicit and reinforce Captain Alec's opinion; she also disseminated it at Old Place, at the Irechesters', at Doctor Mary's, through all the little circle in which she was now a constant and a favorite figure.
Penrose practiced as a solicitor in London, but lived in a little old house near the Irechesters' in the village street, and devoted his leisure to the antiquities and topography of the neighborhood; his lore was plentiful and curious, if not important. He was a small, neat old fellow, with white whiskers of the antique cut, a thin voice, and a dry cackling laugh.
There was a house-party and, for dinner on the day itself, a local contingent as well: Miss Wall, the Irechesters, Mr. Penrose, and Doctor Mary. Mr. Beaumaroy also had been invited by Mrs. Naylor; she considered him an interesting man and felt pity for the obvious ennui of his situation; but he had not felt able to leave his old friend.
Beaumaroy looked up quickly. "What, all about " "Captain Duggle, and the Devil, and the grave, and all that." "Who told you the story?" "Old Mr. Penrose. Do you know him? Lives in High Street, near the Irechesters." "I think I know him by sight. So he entertained you with that old yarn, did he? And that same old yarn probably accounts for the nocturnal examination which you saw going on.
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