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Updated: May 10, 2025
Henry Galleon was dead. Mrs. Launce was, unfortunately, during the whole of this period of Peter's career, away in the country, being burdened with work, children and ill-health. He turned then once again to Bobby.
"Even papa can be hard on me, it seems, when Richard asks him!" she exclaimed. She handed the telegram to Launce. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "You love me," she said, gently and stopped. "Marry me!" she added, with a sudden burst of resolution. "I'll risk it!" As she spoke those words, Lady Winwood read the telegram. It ran thus: "Sir Joseph Graybrooke, Muswell Hill.
But Launce is so impatient. If he can't say two words to me alone this evening, he declares he will come to Muswell Hill, and catch me in the garden tomorrow." "Compose yourself, my dear; he shall say his two words to-night." "How?" Lady Winwood pointed through the curtained entrance of the boudoir to the door of the drawing-room. Beyond the door was the staircase landing.
The servant disappeared, and Natalie was in Launce's arms before she could breathe again. For one delicious moment she let her head lie on his breast; then she suddenly pushed him away from her. "Why do you come here? He will kill you if he finds you in the house. Where is he?" Launce knew even less of Turlington's movements than the servant. "Wherever he is, thank God, I am here before him!"
Natalie stopped, and clasped her hands in despair of finding language strong enough for the occasion. At the same moment the sound of a closing gate caught her ear. She looked round. Launce had kept his appointment before his time. Launce was in the garden, rapidly approaching them. "Now for the Law of Clandestine Marriage!" said Lady Winwood. "Mr. Linzie, we will take it sitting."
When the servant had disappeared with the letter, there was one hope in her mind and in her aunt's mind, which each was ashamed to acknowledge to the other the hope that Launce would face the very danger that they dreaded for him, and come to the house. They had not been long alone again, when Sir Joseph drowsily opened his eyes and asked what they were doing in his room.
He alarmed, instead of encouraging the two harmless old people, by fronting them almost fiercely, with his elbows squared on the table, and his face expressive of a dogged resolution to sit there and listen, if need be, for the rest of his life. Launce was the person who set Sir Joseph going again.
I heard papa tell Richard that half his fortune should go to me on my wedding-day. It was sickening to hear how much they made of Money, and how little they thought of Love. What am I to do, Launce?" "That's easily answered, my darling. In the first place, you are to make up your mind not to marry Richard Turlington " "Do talk reasonably. You know I have done all I could.
Launce was only able to join them as the clock struck. "Too late!" whispered Natalie. "He will be here directly." "Nobody comes punctually to an evening party," said Launce. "Don't let us lose a moment. Send me for your fan." Natalie opened her lips to say the necessary words. Before she could speak, the servant announced "Mr. Turlington."
His whole life came to him the scenes at Scaw House, Dawson's, the bookshop, Brockett's, Bucket Lane, Chelsea, that last awful scene there ... all the people that he had known passed before him Stephen Brant, his grandfather, his father, his mother, Bobby Galleon, Mr. Zanti, Clare, Cards, Mrs. Brockett, Norah, Henry Galleon, Mrs. Rossiter, dear Mrs. Launce ... these and many more.
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