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Updated: May 5, 2025
They were in the full enjoyment of their repast, and the old farmer's rollicking "Ha, ha, ha!" in response to a joke of Lorimer's, had just echoed jovially through the room, when a strong, harsh voice called aloud "Olaf Gueldmar!" There was a sudden silence. Each one looked at the other in surprise. Again the voice called "Olaf Gueldmar!"
I wondered what rare woman had taken the beautiful Jessy Lorimer's place; and I rather enjoyed the prospect of twitting him with his protestations of eternal fidelity to his first love. I did not do it. I had no opportunity. Madame Petralto Garcia was, in fact, Jessy Lorimer Lennox.
That was what it amounted to in the long run. If he went into opera, he must separate himself from all connection with Sidney Lorimer. He could not take the time to visit Lorimer's world; it would be sure and swift destruction to Lorimer, if he were to set foot within the new world which Thayer was preparing to enter. Thayer realized that the horns of his dilemma were long and curving.
"Thelma my wife gone! Why should she go?" And he stared fixedly at Neville, who laid one hand soothingly on his arm. "Perhaps she is with friends," he suggested. "She may be at Lady Winsleigh's or Mrs. Lorimer's." "No, no!" interrupted Morris. "Britta, who stayed up all night for her, has since been to every house that my lady visits and no one has seen or heard of her!"
It is not to be wondered at that in the midst of these festivities such trivialities as Lorimer's poem found no place in his thoughts. It was not until the following day that he was reminded of it. That Sunday was a visiting Sunday. Visiting Sundays occurred three times a term, when everybody who had friends and relations in the neighbourhood was allowed to spend the day with them.
"I am all attention! Consider me your father-confessor. Miss Gueldmar, and explain the reason of this 'bad, fierce' temper of yours." She peeped at him shyly from under her silken lashes. "It is more dreadful than you think," she answered in a low tone. "Mr. Dyceworthy asked me to marry him." Lorimer's keen eyes flashed with indignation.
"I shall not punish you," her father said, "unless I find you disobedient or still unrepentant." "Darling, go!" Avery urged softly into her ear. "It'll be all right now." But Gracie, shaking from head to foot and scarcely able to stand, only clung to her the faster, and in a moment she began agitatedly to cry. Mr. Lorimer's hand fell to his side. "Still unrepentant, I fear," he said.
She was always there, sitting upright and flat-backed beside her work-basket, frowning a little, not because she was cross, but because she was rather near-sighted. She had come when Ruth was quite a baby, after Mrs Lorimer's death, and Aunt Clarkson often spoke of her as "a treasure."
Still, it was something to have won Martin Lorimer's approval, for I had hitherto found him an unsympathetic and critical man, who bore in his person traces of the battle he had fought. There were those who called him lucky; but these had lain softly and fared well while he starved and wrought, winning his way by inches until he built up out of nothing the splendid trade of the Orb mill.
Now that she was won, he snapped the check he had put upon himself, and yielded to the acquired momentum gained during his self-imposed repression. By the time he came home from Europe, Bobby and Thayer both realized that something was amiss. By the first of June, it was an open secret that all was not well with Lorimer's soul. Lorimer still loved Beatrix with all the fervor of his nature.
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