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Updated: May 20, 2025
She heard the arrival, and came out to find that her ladyship had preceded her into the house. Tom Kettering, having communicated this, stooped down from his elevation to add in confidence: "Her ladyship's not looking her best, this short while past. You have an eye to her, mistress. Asking pardon!"
He had seen the sudden stiffening of her slim little figure, the sudden nervous clasp of her hands. And then the door opened and Gladys Leighton walked into the room. She looked straight at Kettering, and he met her eyes with a sort of abashed humiliation. He rose to his feet to offer her his chair. Jimmy rose also. He and Gladys shook hands awkwardly.
Gladys asked Christine bluntly, when Kettering had driven off. Christine shook her head. "I don't know; he came down in the train with me, and we had lunch at the same table, and he spoke. He was coming down here to look at our house, and so well, we came up together." "What do you think Jimmy would say?" "Jimmy!" There was such depths of bitterness in Christine's voice that the elder girl stared.
She spoke to him suddenly; her beautiful brown eyes met his own unfalteringly, with a curious antagonism in them. "Shall you shall you be staying to dinner, or have you to catch the early train back to London?" He might have been the veriest stranger. Jimmy flushed scarlet. Kettering turned away and plunged haphazard into conversation with Gladys Leighton.
When Kettering arrived she noticed that his eyes went past her gloomily as if looking for someone else. "Gladys is not coming," she said. His face brightened. "Not coming! Ought I to be sorry, I wonder?" She laughed. "That's rude." "I'm sorry." He tucked the rug round her, and they started away down the drive. "You don't want the wheel, I suppose?" he asked whimsically. Christine shook her head.
All considered, more or less, that Mr. Norbury, their informant, who had come to see the lights out, didn't mean to say what he had said. He, however, adhered to his statement, which was that Lady Gwendolen had had alarming news about an old lady whom she was much interested in, and had been driven away in the closed brougham by Tom Kettering to Chorlton, more than two hours ago.
Sangster knew men well, and he knew, without any plainer signs or telling, that it was not the house itself that took Kettering there so often, but the little mistress of the house, with her sweet eyes and her pathetic little smile. He got up and laid a hand on Jimmy's shoulder as he spoke. "Why not go down yourself?" he said casually. Jimmy swore.
Ethel laughed. "Oh, no; they're of very different type. I should imagine that he's younger than you are. He was at Herbert's one afternoon when you called." "Ah!" said Bland. "I shall, no doubt, get to know him when next I come down." Then he talked about other matters until he left her, and after a while he found Kettering alone. "Did you ever meet George Lansing?" he asked.
If the Great Horatio knew that he and Christine were practically separated; if the Great Horatio ever knew the story of Cynthia Farrow, Jimmy Challoner knew that it would be a very poor lookout for him indeed. He wondered how long Kettering meant to stay.
Carey and Thomas, an ordained minister and a medical evangelist, were at this meeting in Kettering, on 10th January 1793, appointed missionaries to "the East Indies for preaching the gospel to the heathen," on "£100 or £150 a year between them all," that is, for two missionaries, their wives, and four children, until they should be able to support themselves like the Moravians.
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