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Updated: June 28, 2025
It was to this source of hospitality, however, that Lovelock mainly appealed, following the young girl out upon the little balcony that was suspended above the confectioner's window. Mrs. Vivian sat writing at one of the windows of the sitting-room, and Bernard addressed his conversation to Angela.
But I confess I thought the original Alice Oke, siren and murderess though she might be, very uninteresting compared with this wayward and exquisite creature whom I had rashly promised myself to send down to posterity in all her unlikely wayward exquisiteness. One morning while Mr. Oke gave me her version of the story of Alice Oke and Christopher Lovelock.
Those to whom it does not appeal can skip the next few pages. To begin with, George Henderson & Co. were the first to remove their offices after their old premises in Aloe Godown were dismantled. They first of all migrated to 3, Fairlie Place, and after many years to 25, Mangoe Lane, now in the occupation of Lyall Marshall & Co. and Lovelock & Lewes.
It was the only bit of impressive scenery that I had met in the neighbourhood of Okehurst. "It is called Cotes Common," answered Mrs. Oke, who had slackened the pace of the horse, and let the reins hang loose about his neck. "It was here that Christopher Lovelock was killed."
The table was laid for the midday repast, and a gentleman stood with his back to the door, looking out of the window. As Bernard came in, this gentleman turned and exhibited the ambrosial beard, the symmetrical shape, the monocular appendage, of Captain Lovelock. The Captain screwed his glass into his eye, and greeted Bernard in his usual fashion that is, as if he had parted with him overnight.
I suppose she takes ideas from them." A sudden light dawned in my mind. The white dress in which I had seen Mrs. Oke in the yellow room, the day that she showed me Lovelock's verses, was not, as I had thought, a modern copy; it was the original dress of Alice Oke, the daughter of Virgil Pomfret the dress in which, perhaps, Christopher Lovelock had seen her in that very room.
Oke spent her day wandering from one room to another, and from the garden to the greenhouse, seeing whether all was in order, when, as a matter of fact, all was always in order at Okehurst. She did not give me any sitting, and not a word was spoken about Alice Oke or Christopher Lovelock.
At last, among the press of people, as he was passing out, our hero became aware that he had been brought into contact with Lovelock, who was walking just beside him. At the same moment Lovelock noticed him looked at him for an instant, and then looked away.
Captain Lovelock got up as well; Bernard heard him knock over his little gilded chair. There was a pause, during which Blanche went through a little mute exhibition of amazement and pleasure. Bernard turned round, to receive half a dozen quick questions. "What are you hiding away for? What are you blushing for? I never saw you do anything like that before!
Oke took the miniature religiously off its stand, and showed me, written in faded characters upon the back, the name "Christopher Lovelock," and the date 1626. "I found this in the secret drawer of that cabinet, together with the heap of poems," she said, taking the miniature out of my hand. I was silent for a minute. "Does does Mr. Oke know that you have got it here?"
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