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Updated: May 20, 2025
"The pheasants aren't very strong yet, and it was hard to drive them out of the covers. As I'd only a light water-proof, I got rather wet outside the last wood and I left the others. Kettering wanted to see the keeper about to-morrow's beat, but I didn't wait." "Since you have been in the rain all day, you had better have some tea," said Sylvia. "They'll bring it here, if you ring."
Kettering, perceiving that he didn't do justice to the fare, enumerated to him other things that were in the larder, with the suggestion that he might perhaps prefer a choice of them.
Can any good come out of Kettering? was the conclusion of the Baptist ministers of London with the one exception of Booth, when they met formally to decide whether, like those of Birmingham and other places, they should join the primary society.
But he was intensely miserable all the same, the one immediate gleam of light being the hope of a letter from Helen. As yet the Kettering family was a new experience to him, and though the stiff gentility and aggressive hospitality so far exhibited had made him somewhat uncomfortable, his judgment of these people was favourable enough.
Herbert looked amused. "You're considerate; and I dare say you're right. There doesn't seem to be any reason why Muriel should concern herself about the thing, particularly as you're in Susan's hands." The implied promise that he would not mention his having seen her afforded Sylvia some relief, but when he went away to speak to Mrs. Kettering, she wished she had not met him.
"We must have our little tea another day," she said recklessly. She did not look at him. "It was too bad being interrupted like that." She hardly knew what she was saying. Her cheeks were scarlet, her eyes were feverish. Kettering stifled a sigh. "Perhaps it is as well that we were interrupted," he said very gently. He took her hand and looked down into her eyes.
"Oh, yes," said his host. "I know his cousin better." "He has been out in Canada, hasn't he?" "Yes; went out to look after Mrs. Marston's property. I understand he has been more or less successful." "When did he leave England?" Kettering told him, and Bland considered. "So Lansing has been out, and no doubt going to a good deal of trouble, for two years," he said.
"Oh, what on earth is the use of being a man if you can't make a woman care for you? She did once, and it ought not to be so very difficult to make her care again. She she's just longing for someone to be good to her and love her. That's why she seems to like Mr. Kettering, I know. It is only seeming, Jimmy. I know her better than you do.
The son and daughters of the Kettering family were out taking the air, as the Sunday morning was a fine one, and Morgan sat talking with his father-in-law in a front room, that was depressing with horse-hair upholstery and wax fruit under glass shades and a series of prints representing certain emotional moments in the life of a young blue-jacket.
Cleo showed no inclination to speak, and the other women would not venture to begin. Mr. Kettering, on whom lay the onus of entertaining, at length strove to face his responsibilities, and, addressing himself to Morgan, discussed the comparative fineness of the weather at London and Dover.
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