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Updated: May 28, 2025
Up to this point he had been aware that probably at least one pair of eyes had been watching him; for, although the windows were of bottle-end glass, yet it was exceedingly likely that there would be some clear glass in them; and, with the tapers burning inside, his movements would all have been visible to either of Lackington's men who cared to put his eye to the window.
Good-bye, Major, I congratulate you. They have given you a fine piece of work." Warkworth made a little bow, half ironical. Confound the fellow's grave and lordly ways! He did not want his congratulations. He lingered a little, sorely, full of rage, yet not knowing how to go. Lord Lackington's eyes ceased to blaze, and the kitten ventured once more to climb upon his knee.
"I came to tell you that I got your telegram yesterday, and that in the evening, by an extraordinary and fortunate chance, I met Miss Le Breton in Paris " "You met Julie in Paris?" echoed the Duchess, in astonishment. "She had come to spend a couple of days with some friends there before going on to Bruges. I gave her the news of Lord Lackington's illness, and she at once turned back.
Gently releasing herself, she kissed Lord Lackington's forehead, and rose to her feet. Suddenly the patient opened his eyes, and as he seemed to become aware of the figures beside him, he again lifted himself in bed, and a gleam most animated, most vivacious, passed over his features. "Brougham's not asked," he said, with a little chuckle of amusement. "Isn't it a joke?"
Here, though it was empty of people, all was in confusion; the table had been overturned in the struggle that had raged along here between Lackington's men, who had entered from the front door, and the servants of the house, who had rushed in from their quarters at the first alarm and intercepted them. One chair lay on its side, with its splintered carved arm beside it.
"What do you mean?" said the Duchess, offended. "If it isn't a Leonardo, pray what is it?" "Why, a bad school copy, of course!" said Lord Lackington, hotly. "Look at the eyes" he took out a pencil and pointed "look at the neck, look at the fingers!" The Duchess pouted. "Oh!" she said. "Then there is something in fingers!" Lord Lackington's face suddenly relaxed.
He paused in embarrassment, but there was a sparkle of astonished expectancy in his eyes. "My mother" she looked away into the blaze of the fire, and her voice choked a little "my mother was Lord Lackington's daughter." "Lord Lackington's daughter?" echoed Warkworth, in stupefaction. A rush of ideas and inferences sped through his mind.
But the Duke managed to free himself physically, and so regained a little freedom of mind. "Well, upon my word," he said, as he resumed his march up and down "upon my word!" Then, as he stood still before her, "You say she is Marriott Dalrymple's daughter?" "And Lord Lackington's granddaughter." said the Duchess, panting a little from her exertions.
Jacob had told his cousin, as she knew, the story of her parentage and of Lord Lackington's recognition of his granddaughter. But as soon as the marriage was announced it was not likely that Lady Henry had been able to hold her tongue. A good many interesting tales of his cousin's bride had, indeed, reached the melancholy Duke.
They had wandered in their conversation so far from the Norrises by now that he felt sure he could speak of him without doing them any harm. So, as they stood on the steps together, waiting for Lackington's horse to come round, he suddenly said: "Do you know aught of one Buxton, who lives somewhere near Tonbridge, I think?" "Buxton, Buxton?" said the other.
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