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Updated: June 1, 2025
Marland and Millie Bushell were walking up and down; Charlie was lying in a hammock. A week had passed since the two young men had startled Lady Merceron by their unexpected arrival, and since then the good lady had been doing her best to entertain them; for, as she could not help noticing-, they seemed a little dull.
"But what am I to do about them?" cried Agatha. 'Them' evidently meant Calder and Charlie. "Do! Why, there's nothing to do. You must just apologize to Mr. Merceron, and tell him that an end had better be put " "Oh, I know Mr. Taylor said that; but, Mrs. Blunt, I don't want an end to be put to our acquaintance. I like him very very much. Oh, and he thinks me horrid! Oh!"
"Of all ways of wasting time, antiquarianism is perhaps the most futile;" and Mr. Vansittart wiped his mouth with an air of finality. "Now the Agatha Merceron story," continued Charlie, "is in itself " "Perhaps we'd better finish our talk tomorrow. The ladies will, expect us in the garden." "All right," said Charlie, with much content.
Marland, "this very evening. You'll come, Miss Bushell?" "I don't think I care very much about the Pool," said Millie. "We won't let Mr. Merceron take you in his canoe this time." Charlie rolled out of the hammock and came up to them. "You must take us to the Pool. I don't believe you've been there since you came back. Poor Agatha will quite " "Agatha?" exclaimed Calder.
Merceron," said Victor Sutton, with a wave of his hand. "I believe I know an uncle of yours an uncommon clever fellow," said Calder, unfolding his napkin and glancing round the dining-room of the Themis Club. "Oh, Uncle Van? Yes, we consider him our " "Leading article? Quite so. I've heard a bit about you too something about a canoe, eh?" Charlie looked somewhat disturbed.
Yet, while Mr. Wentworth spoke of returning to town in a few weeks, Charlie asseverated that he had paid his last visit to that revolting and disappointing place. Lady Merceron wished she had Uncle Van by her side to explain these puzzling inconsistencies.
"Take another sniff," advised Mrs. Blunt, "Of course, if Mr. Merceron is willing to let bygones be bygones, and just be an acquaintance " "Oh, but I know he won't. If you knew Charlie "Knew who, Agatha?" "Mr. Merceron," said Agatha, in a very humble voice. "If you knew him at all, you'd know he wouldn't do that." "Then you must send him about his business. Oh, yes, I know.
Agatha clasped her hands, and Calder's voice broke in, between them: "Come along, Merceron, we're waiting for you." "They've got into antiquities already," smiled Mrs. Blunt. "You must come again, Mr. Merceron, and meet Miss Glyn. Mustn't he, Agatha?" Agatha threw one glance at him. "If he will," she said.
Opposite to her, on the higher bank, some seven or eight feet above the water, rose the temple, a small classical erection, used now, when at all, as a summer-house, but built to commemorate the sad fate of Agatha Merceron. The sun had just sunk, and the Pool looked chill and gloomy; the deep water under the temple was black and still.
Where; is the boy?" called Lady Merceron again. The boy was gone. He was flying as fast as his legs would take him to the Pool. Where was that cherished interview now? He could hope only for a few wretched minutes hardly enough to say good-by once before he must hustle yes, positively hustle Agatha out of sight.
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