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Updated: May 16, 2025
That I should not mind, for Sydney disagreeable is about as nice as Sydney any other way; but when it comes to his shooting poisoned shafts at Paul, I object. If he imagines that anything he can say, or hint, will lessen my estimation of Paul Lessingham by one hair's breadth, he has less wisdom even than I gave him credit for.
"You're by way of being a fisherman yourself, I hear?" Sir Henry continued. "In a very small way," Lessingham acknowledged. "I have been out once or twice." "With Ben Oates, eh?" "I believe that was the man's name." Philippa glanced up from her work with a little exclamation of surprise. "I had no idea of that, Mr. Lessingham. Whatever made you choose Ben Oates? He is a most disgraceful person."
"I did not hear it," Lessingham observed, "but I feel deeply grateful to him. It is so seldom that I have a chance to talk to you alone like this." "It seems incredible that we have talked so long," Philippa said, glancing at the watch upon her wrist. "I really feel now that I know all about you your school days, your college days, and your soldiering. You have been very frank, haven't you?"
Lessingham, and no longer gave heed to the artist's utterances. She was going to spend an hour with Miriam this evening, without express invitation. Mr. Bradshaw would drive up the hill with her, and doubtless Mr. Spence would see her safely home. Thus she saw no more for the present of the Denyers' friend.
There were three, and one of them, addressed to herself, had only the Naples postmark. She went back to her bedroom with it. After breakfast Mrs. Lessingham spoke for a while of news contained in her correspondence; then of a sudden asked: "You hadn't any letters?" "Yes, aunt; one." "My child, you are far from well this morning. The fever hasn't gone. Your face burns." "Yes."
Lessingham!" she called out, as he reached the topmost step. He took an eager step towards her. "Philippa!" he exclaimed. "Why, what are you doing here?" "I was frightened," she faltered. "Are you hurt?" "Not in the least," he assured her. "We had a rough sail home, that's all, and that fellow Oates drank himself half unconscious. Come along, let me help you up the steps and out of this."
"You're bitterly ashamed of me, Miriam." She made no reply, and at once led the way along the corridor. Mrs. Spence had met Reuben in London, since her marriage; by invitation he came to her house, but neglected to repeat the visit. To Mrs. Lessingham he was personally a stranger.
"I suppose we don't really know what war is," she observed, looking out of the window at a comfortable little village tucked away with a background of trees and guarded by a weather-beaten old church. "The people are safe in their homes. You must appreciate what that means, Mr. Lessingham." "Indeed I do," he answered gravely.
Possibly he was a frequent subject of discussion between Eleanor and her cousin. Mature women could talk with each other freely of these things. On the other hand, whatever Mrs. Lessingham might have in her mind, she certainly would not expose it in dialogue with her niece.
Had it not been Edwards I might have suspected him of having had his palm well greased, but, in his case, I knew better. It was as I thought, my visitor was a mesmerist of the first class; he had actually played some of his tricks, in broad daylight, on my servant, at my own front door, a man worth studying. Edwards continued. 'There is someone else, sir, who wishes to see you, Mr Lessingham.
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