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Updated: May 14, 2025
'But I am going to set about it. He hesitated, as if ashamed of some weakness he was about to betray. 'My object in calling was to ask if you had heard any tidings from Budmouth of my Cytherea. You used to speak of her as one you were interested in. There was, at any rate, real sadness in Manston's tone now, and the rector paused to weigh his words ere he replied.
Owen's position on the other side of the passage was a little in advance of Manston's seat, and so situated that by leaning forward he could look directly into the face of any person sitting there, though, if he sat upright, he was wholly hidden from such a one by the intervening pillar.
Was she wise in her request? Holding her present belief, and with no definite evidence either way, she could, for one thing, never conscientiously marry any one else. Suppose that Cytherea were Manston's wife i.e., that the first wife was really burnt? The adultery of Manston would be proved, and, Mr. Raunham thought, cruelty sufficient to bring the case within the meaning of the statute.
Morris said in her letter to me that her eyes are black! 'H'm. Mrs. Morris must have made a mistake nothing likelier. 'She didn't. 'They might be either in this photograph, said Owen, looking at the card bearing Mrs. Manston's name. 'Blue eyes would scarcely photograph so deep in tone as that, said Cytherea. 'No, they seem black here, certainly.
'And I! exclaimed Anne Seaway, a probable and natural sequence of events and motives explanatory of the whole crime events and motives shadowed forth by the letter, Manston's possession of it, his renunciation of Cytherea, and instalment of herself flashing upon her mind with the rapidity of lightning.
The gardener was making merry on Manston's and her account. The happiness that a generous spirit derives from the belief that it exists in others is often greater than the primary happiness itself. The gardener thought 'How happy they are! and the thought made him happier than they.
Her supreme indifference added fuel to Manston's ardour it completely disarmed his pride. The invulnerable Nobody seemed greater to him than a susceptible Princess. Cytherea had in the meantime received the following letter from her brother.
They were the genuine reproach of a lover to his mistress; the trifling coldness of her answer to him would have been noticed by no man who was only a friend. But, in entertaining that sweet thought, she had forgotten herself, and her position for the instant. Was she still Manston's wife that was the terrible supposition, and her future seemed still a possible misery to her.
Thus terrified, driven into a corner, panting and fluttering about for some loophole of escape, yet still shrinking from the idea of being Manston's wife, the poor little bird endeavoured to find out from Miss Aldclyffe whether it was likely Owen would be well treated in the hospital.
Every tongue was instantly silent at the sight of Manston's pale and clear countenance, which contrasted strangely with the grimy and streaming faces of the toiling villagers. 'Was she burnt? he said in a firm though husky voice, and stepping into the illuminated area. The rector came to him, and took him aside. 'Is she burnt? repeated Manston.
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