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Updated: June 28, 2025
M'Catchley, much disturbed, and somewhat softened, for she was by no means a woman without feeling; indeed, she considered herself nervous. "Get all your friends all the company, in short-to come back into the tent for refreshments, for anything. I want to say a few words to them." "Bless me! Mr. Avenel a few words!" cried the widow, "but that's just what they're all afraid of.
Richard Avenel. "I wonder what Mrs. M'Catchley will say?" Indeed, if the whole truth must be known, Mr. Richard Avenel not only gave that /dejeune dansant/ in honour of Mrs. M'Catchley those soft words which but why not here let Mr. Richard Avenel use his own idiomatic and unsophisticated expression? "Please the pigs, then," said Mr. Avenel to himself, "I shall pop the question!"
Perhaps that romantic attachment to the fair invisible preserved him heart-whole amongst the temptations of Screwstown. Suddenly, to the astonishment of the Abbey Gardens, Mrs. M'Catchley proved her identity, and arrived at Colonel Pompley's in a handsome travelling-carriage, attended by her maid and footman. She had come to stay some weeks; a tea-party was given in her honour. Mr.
M'Catchley had described with much eloquence the Dejeunes dansants of her fashionable friends residing in the elegant suburbs of Wimbledon and Fulham. She declared that nothing was so agreeable. She had even said point-blank to Mr. Avenel, "Why don't you give a Dejeune dansant?" And, therewith, a Dejeune dansant Mr. Avenel resolved to give. The day was fixed, and Mr.
Will he go to Oxford or Cambridge?" "I have not made up my mind yet if I shall send him to the University at all." "A young man of his expectations!" exclaimed Mrs. M'Catchley, artfully. "Expectations!" repeated Richard, firing up. "Has he been talking to you of his expectations?" "No, indeed, sir. But the nephew of the rich Mr. Avenel!
"In the first place, I have met with a relation of of the Avenels." "Indeed! Whom, Richard Avenel?" "Richard Richard who is he? Oh, I remember, the wild lad who went off to America; but that was when I was a mere child." "That Richard Avenel is now a rich, thriving trader, and his marriage is in this newspaper, married to an Honourable Mrs. M'Catchley.
Richard's shrewd sense comprehended in an instant all the difficulties of his position; but he walked on deliberately and directly towards Mrs. M'Catchley, who was standing near the grand marquee with the Pompleys and the dean's lady. As those personages saw him make thus boldly towards them, there was a flutter.
"Ah, Mr. Avenel!" said the widow, languidly, and leaving her hand in his, "who can resist you?" Up came Colonel Pompley; Richard took the shawl: "No hurry for that now, Colonel, Mrs. M'Catchley feels already at home here." Ten minutes afterwards, Richard Avenel so contrived that it was known by the whole company that their host was accepted by the Honourable Mrs. M'Catchley.
Perhaps that romantic attachment to the fair invisible preserved him heart-whole amongst the temptations of Screwstown. Suddenly, to the astonishment of the Abbey Gardens, Mrs. M'Catchley proved her identity, and arrived at Colonel Pompley's in a handsome travelling-carriage, attended by her maid and footman. She had come to stay some weeks; a tea-party was given in her honour. Mr.
M'Catchley to endear it; he knew very few people, he was shy, he felt his position with his uncle was equivocal, he had not the habit of society, he heard, incidentally, many an ill-natured remark upon his uncle and the entertainment, he felt indignant and mortified. He had been a great deal happier eating his radishes and reading his book by the little fountain in Riccabocca's garden.
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