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The plot is a compound of two of Scott's novels: the 'Monastery' and 'Guy Mannering. Julian, alias George Brown, comes to his paternal castle unknown to himself.
'And sometimes through the week, I should think, said Mannering, continuing the same tone. 'Why, yes; as far as my vocation will permit. I am, as Hamlet says, indifferent honest, when my clients and their solicitors do not make me the medium of conveying their double-distilled lies to the bench. But oportet vivere! it is a sad thing. And now to our business.
But before you go I should like you to know that I, at least, am not deceived. I do not believe in you, Mannering. I ask you a question, and I challenge you to answer it. What is your true reason for making a scrap-heap of your career?" "Are you my friend," Mannering asked, quietly, "that you wish to pry behind the curtain of my life? If I have other reasons they concern myself alone."
"So you see we are found out, after all, Duchess," he said, turning to her. "You have known Mrs. Handsell, Mannering, let me present you now to her other self. Duchess, you see that our recluse has come to his senses at last. I must really introduce you formally: Mr. Mannering the Duchess of Lenchester." Berenice, arrested in her forward movement, watched Mannering's face eagerly.
Glancing casually across at his neighbor, he found the dark glasses focused upon himself with such fixity that he responded with a friendly nod, and, making some trivial remark, found Mr. Mannering not at all averse to conversation. A few commonplaces were exchanged until the arrival of Mr. Rosenbaum's order, when the other remarked,
Mannering now turned his eye upon the Dominie, who had made bows since his entrance into the room, sprawling out his leg, and bending his back like an automaton, which continues to repeat the same movement until the motion is stopt by the artist. 'My good friend, Mr.
"I do not accept the correction," Borrowdean answered, quickly. "There are times when a man can make no mistake, and this is one of them. You shall hear the truth from me this afternoon, and when your days here have been spun out to their limit your days of sybaritic idleness you shall hear it again, only it will be too late. You are fighting against Nature, Mannering.
Loud and repeated bursts of laughter, from different quarters of the house, proved that her labours were acceptable, and not unrewarded by a generous public. With some difficulty a waiter was prevailed upon to show Colonel Mannering and Dinmont the room where their friend, learned in the law, held his hebdomadal carousals.
At length, when the solitary sound of one o'clock had long since resounded on the ebon ear of night, and the next signal of the advance of time was close approaching, Mannering, whose impatience had long subsided into disappointment and despair, looked at his watch, and said, "We must now give them up" when at that instant But what then befell will require a separate chapter. Justice.
Duty! You spouted individualism by the hour. Gratify my curiosity, won't you? Tell me what made you change your mind?" Mannering was silent for a moment. A close observer might have noticed a certain alteration in his face. A touch of the coming weariness was already there. "I have never changed my mind," he answered, quietly. "My inclinations to-day are what they have always been."
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