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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Miss Pimpernell," I continued, in a determined voice, "I have had tea enough to-night to last me for a twelvemonth! I can't bear this any longer. You must introduce me to Mrs Clyde. I have never been able as yet to make her acquaintance, and I want to go to her house as Horner does, and that fellow Mawley."
"You have been very foolish, Frank," said my kind old friend; "but I will try what I can do for you. You ought to have known that she did not care for Mr Mawley not in the way you mean; and, as for marrying him, why, the curate himself does not dream of such a thing. I cannot imagine how you could have been so blind!" "But you will help me, Miss Pimpernell, won't you?" I entreated.
"Are there not some other signs given by animals, also, when there is going to be a change in the weather?" asked Bessie Dasher. "Yes," said Mr Mawley, anxious, as usual, to show off his erudition, "cows low, swallows fly near the ground, sheep bleat, and " "Asses bray," said I, with emphasis. "So I hear," said he quickly. The curate was getting sharper than ever.
"Yes," said the vicar, "in his thirty-second year. If he had lived, he would probably have been one of the foremost men in England to-day." "`Whom the gods love, die young," quoted I grandiloquently, like Mawley. "True," said the vicar. "There is more philosophy in that, than in most of those old Pagan beliefs: there is a glimmering of Christianity about the saying."
Then he said: "If you'll sit down a minute, I'll tell Sir James that you're here." "Thank you," said the Terror; and he and Erebus came into the great hall, sat down on a couch covered by a large bearskin, and gazed round them at the arms and armor with appreciative eyes. Mawley found Sir James lighting a big cigar; and told him that Master and Miss Dangerfield wished to see him on business. "Oh?
After the ceremony was over between these twain, I was told that Lady Dasher who, now that her two daughters would be "off her hands," no longer had any necessity to keep up a separate establishment was to move from The Terrace, with her fuchsias and other belongings, and take up her residence for the future with her first son-in-law, Mr Mawley; the curate being now ensconced in that villa, whose furnishing by old Shuffler, lang syne, had caused me so much jealousy and grief!
There was Mr Mawley visiting at Mrs Clyde's house some half-a-dozen times a week, for all I knew to the contrary and of course I imagined the worst and having endless chances and opportunities of conversing with my darling, in the morning, at noontide, and at night; while poor, wretched I had to content myself with a passing bow and smile when we chanced to meet abroad, or I should happen to see her dainty figure at the window as I promenaded past her house.
But I may as well tell them so myself; so you may bring them here." Mawley fetched the Twins and ushered them into the smoking-room. They entered it with the self-possessed air of persons quite sure of themselves, and greeted Sir James politely.
"Yes, Mr Lorton," she replied, "to the best of my belief it is; for, I have heard, on the most unimpeachable authority, that she is engaged to Mr Mawley. He is always going there, you know." "But that is no proof, ma," said Bessie Dasher, who, as I have hinted before, was suspected of a slight tenderness towards the curate. "Mr Mawley is always coming here, too!"
"Well, then," I said, "your duty is to draw us out. Many men are diffident of speaking earnestly and showing their feelings, from the fear of being laughed at, or ridiculed, as solemn prigs and book-worms. Ladies should think of this, and encourage us." "Yet, some of you," she replied, undauntedly, "are not so reticent and retiring. There is Mr Mawley, for instance.
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