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Updated: June 25, 2025
Langhope to hear her own version first that there were questions she wished to parry herself, explanations she could trust no one to make for her? The thought plunged Amherst into deeper misery. He knew not how to defend himself against these disintegrating suspicions he felt only that, once the accord between two minds is broken, it is less easy to restore than the passion between two hearts.
I know your answer to Mr. Langhope that you and Justine are no longer together. But I thought of you as a man to sink your personal relations at such a moment as this." "To sink them?" he repeated vaguely: and she went on: "After all, what difference does it make?" "What difference?"
Langhope summed up impatiently, "one could understand it, at his age, and with that damned romantic head but to be put aside for a lot of low mongrelly socialist mill-hands ah, my poor girl my poor girl!" Mrs. Ansell mused. "You didn't write me that things were so bad. There's been no actual quarrel?" she asked. "How can there be, when the poor child does all he wants?
Langhope would willingly have broken the will which deprived his grand-daughter of half her inheritance, and that his subsequent show of friendliness was merely a concession to expediency. But in his present mood Amherst almost believed that time and closer relations might turn such sentiments into honest liking.
Langhope's convenience they might still deceive the gods. Once pledged to her new task, Justine, as usual, espoused it with ardour. It was pleasant, even among greater joys, to see her husband again frankly welcomed by Mr. Langhope; to see Cicely bloom into happiness at their coming; and to overhear Mr.
She could think of no way of diverting it but the way she had chosen. She must see Mr. Langhope first, must clear Amherst of the least faint association with her act or her intention.
Langhope, who leaned back resignedly in his chair, trying to solace himself with Hanaford Banner, till midday should bring him a sight of the metropolitan press. "I suppose you know," she said suddenly, "that Bessy has telegraphed for Cicely, and made her arrangements to stay here another week." Mr.
She looked from Amherst to Cicely, who sat opposite, eager and rosy in her mourning frock for Mr. Langhope had died some two months previously and as intent as her step-parents on the scene before her. Cicely was old enough now to regard her connection with Westmore as something more than a nursery game.
It has grown almost as painless as modern dentistry." "It's our odious insensibility that makes it so!" Mr. Langhope received this with the mildness of suspended judgment. "How else, then, do you propose that Bessy shall save what is left of her money?" "I would rather see her save what is left of her happiness. Bessy will never be happy in the new way." "What do you call the new way?"
He was fond of exercise, but it bored him to talk of it. The men's smoking-room anecdotes did not amuse him, he was unmoved by the fluctuations of the stock-market, he could not tell one card from another, and his perfunctory attempts at billiards had once caused Mr. Langhope to murmur, in his daughter's hearing: "Ah, that's the test I always said so!"
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