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Updated: June 15, 2025
But on her left sat Joyselle, and as a guest he was certainly perfect. Lady Kingsmead in pale pink and pearls was good enough to look at, and feeling that she wished to be made love to, he made love to her, as was his duty. And he did it well, for he was an artist. He was also amazingly handsome.
One afternoon, a few days later, Tommy Kingsmead burst into his sister's room where she was sitting writing. "I say, Bick " "Hello, little boy, what's the matter?" Tommy shrugged his shoulders in close imitation of Joyselle. "I don't know, but something is. Very. It's Théo!" She started. "Théo? He isn't ill, is he?" "No, no. He's downstairs; wants to see you.
"I leave to-morrow, before she will be up," he declared, "and there are things I must say. You allow me, Lady Kingsmead?" Then he put his arm round the girl's waist and marched her down the hall and up the stairs leading to the library. "Isn't he quaint?" giggled Lady Kingsmead to the Duchess, and the old woman assented with a laugh. "He is an amazing mixture of the boyish and the paternal.
Lady Kingsmead shuddered. "We must wire him. We'll tell him to come down here he must be mad I oh, Brigit!" Brigit shook her head. "Of course he's mad. But we must go to him. We'll wire from the station." Hurrying her distracted mother to the train, the girl settled into a corner and remained in unbroken silence until they reached town.
"But you can't be proud of such a rough thing as that." Carey laughed at the queer look the old fellow gave. "There," he cried, "didn't I say you were making believe?" "Nay, that you didn't, sir. I never heard you." "Here's Doctor Kingsmead coming up." "Here, I say, don't you say a word to him, my lad," cried the old sailor in an anxious whisper. "Will you own to it then?"
There were plenty of willing hands ready to help, and a canvas stretcher was drawn beneath the sufferer so that he could be carried carefully down to one of the state cabins, which was immediately vacated for his use; and there for hours Doctor Kingsmead was calling into his service everything that a long training could suggest; but apparently in vain, for his patient lay quite insensible in the sultry cabin, apparently sinking slowly into the great ocean of eternity.
Lady Kingsmead, laid upon Carron's bed, came to in a few minutes in violent hysterics, and the young doctor, when he had given her a soothing draught, insisted on the two women leaving. "I must send for the coroner," he explained, "and it will be unpleasant. Your cab is still at the door, I think? May I have your address?"
"It is odious, disgusting of him," she broke out in the hansom as they went up St. James Street. "When he is quieted down, mother, you must make him understand that I absolutely refuse to accept the responsibility of his deeds. I never could bear him." Lady Kingsmead nodded. "It is the morphine he takes. He must go into one of these great cure places or no, that is for drinking, I believe "
"I wish you to go to Kingsmead, Brigit." "I will not go to Kingsmead, Victor." "Then," his anger now finally blazed up, "I can say only good-bye." Her face was as white and as hard as his own, and being a woman she could even laugh. "Adieu, donc Beau-père!" "What do you mean by that? You will not surely you cannot mean that you will " "But I do!" He himself had suggested a revenge to her.
His idea of evenings was, of course, of a time when mothers must look their best at any cost, and when no mother ever stayed upstairs. Every evening, therefore, he could not rest until Lady Kingsmead had gone "to dress."
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