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Updated: May 14, 2025
'It would be absurd of me to say that I like him now family feeling prevents it, but I cannot in honesty say deliberately that he is a bad man. Edward could keep the secret of Manston's coercion of Miss Aldclyffe in the matter of the houses a secret no longer. He told Owen the whole story. 'That's one thing, he continued, 'but not all.
It was evening just at sunset on the day of Manston's death. In the cottage at Tolchurch was gathered a group consisting of Cytherea, her brother, Edward Springrove, and his father. They sat by the window conversing of the strange events which had just taken place. In Cytherea's eye there beamed a hopeful ray, though her face was as white as a lily.
Immediately upon rising up, he looked intently in that direction, and saw a lady standing at the end of the seat nearest himself. Portions of Manston's figure appeared on the other side of her. In two glances Graye read thus many of her characteristics, and in the following order: She was a tall woman. She was broad at the shoulders. She was full-bosomed.
But so impressed was she with the sensation of people in hiding, that in coming out of the yard she turned her head to see if any person were following her, in the same way. Nobody was visible, but she discerned, standing behind the angle of the stable, Manston's horse and gig, ready harnessed. He did intend to fly after all, then, she thought.
However, all that is changed can I be otherwise than happy at it? Of course not. I am happy. Tell me what I am to do, and believe me still to be your faithful wife, EUNICE. "MRS. RONDLEY, and my address, 79 ADDINGTON STREET, LAMBETH." The name and address were written on a separate slip of paper. 'So it's to be all right at last then, said Manston's friend.
Nobody was yet in the church, and he walked round the aisles. From Cytherea's frequent description of how and where herself and others used to sit, he knew where to look for Manston's seat; and after two or three errors of examination he took up a prayer-book in which was written 'Eunice Manston. The book was nearly new, and the date of the writing about a month earlier.
Manston's fate, he was unable to conceal the intensity of his eagerness for me to advise him to advertise again for her. A week after the second, the third advertisement was inserted. A paragraph was attached, which stated that this would be the last time the announcement would appear. At this, the eleventh hour, the postman brought a letter for Manston, directed in a woman's hand.
On the Monday after Springrove's visit, Owen had walked to the top of a hill in the neighbourhood of Tolchurch a wild hill that had no name, beside a barren down where it never looked like summer. In the intensity of his meditations on the ever-present subject, he sat down on a weather-beaten boundary-stone gazing towards the distant valleys seeing only Manston's imagined form.
'O, if I had only known that all this was going to happen! she murmured again, as they paced along upon the rustling leaves. 'What did you say, ma'am? said the porter. 'O, nothing particular; we are getting near the old manor-house by this time, I imagine? 'Very near now, ma'am. They soon reached Manston's residence, round which the wind blew mournfully and chill.
During the dilemma she fell into a troubled sleep, and dreamt that she was being whipped with dry bones suspended on strings, which rattled at every blow like those of a malefactor on a gibbet; that she shifted and shrank and avoided every blow, and they fell then upon the wall to which she was tied. She could not see the face of the executioner for his mask, but his form was like Manston's.
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