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Updated: June 1, 2025
It might be natural that, her hereditary connection with the Mercerons being disclosed, Mr. Vansittart should discourse of Langbury Court, of the Pool, and of Agatha Merceron; but was it necessary that Victor Sutton should chime in with the whole history of the canoe and Miss Bushell, or joke with Mr.
Then she felt Charlie Merceron coining nearer, and, a second later, she heard his voice. "Is it possible that it's you?" he asked, in a low tone. Then she looked at him. His face was pale and his eyes eagerly straining to read what might be in hers. "Hush!" she whispered. "Yes. Hush! hush!" "But but he told me your name was Glyn?" "Yes." "And he says you're engaged to him."
He seemed not to hear, and awaited an answer with a bland smile. In truth, he thought Mrs. Marland a silly woman. "Young, I believe," answered Charlie, in a careless tone. "It's curious I've not seen them about," said Lady Merceron. "I pass the farm almost every day. Who are they, Charlie?" "One's a Miss Wallace. She's engaged to Willie Prime." "To Willie? Fancy!" "H'm! I think," remarked Mr.
"Do stick to the point," groaned Victor. "All right. Well, he said, 'I'll lay a guinea there was a' and he winked his sinful old eye, you know, for all the world like a what-d'ye-call-it in a cathedral one of those hideous I say, what is the word, Victor? I saw 'em when Agatha took me beg pardon, Merceron?" Was the world full of Agathas?
"Agatha Merceron, you know. Why, haven't you heard ?" "Oh, ah! Yes, of course. I beg your pardon." "I hate that beastly Pool," said Charlie. "How can you?" smiled Mrs. Marland. "You used to spend hours there every evening." Charlie glanced uneasily at Calder, who turned very red. "Times have changed, have they?" Mrs. Marland asked archly. "You've got tired of looking in vain for Agatha?"
He enjoyed himself more in the garden, for, while Lady Merceron and her brother in law took counsel, he strolled through the moonlit shrubberies with Mrs. Marland, and Mrs. Marland was very sympathetically interested in him and his pursuits.
He's got Miss Wallace to comfort him, and I've got nobody to comfort me." "Oh, yes. Miss Bushell." "You know her name?" "Yes and yours your surname, I mean; you told me the other." "That's more than you've done for me." "I told you my name was Agatha." "Ah, but that was a joke. I'd been talking about Agatha Merceron." "Very well. I'm sorry it doesn't satisfy you. If you won't believe me !"
"Charlie, dear," called Lady Merceron, who had been talking comfortably to Mrs. Bushell in the shade, "come and hand the tea. I'm sure you must all want some. Millie, my dear, how hot you look!" "She never will take any care of her complexion, complained Mrs. Bushell. "Take care of your stom your health and your complexion will take care of itself," observed Mr. Vansittart. "Charlie!
"One blessing of the country is that everybody knows his neighbor's income," observed Mr. Vansittart. "Perhaps the lady has money," suggested Mrs. Marland. "But, Mr. Merceron, who's the other lady?" "A friend of Miss Wallace's, I believe. I don't know her name." "Oh, they're merely friends of Prime's?" Mr. Vansittart concluded. "If that's all he bases his claim for a reduction on " "Hang it!
"Perhaps grandpapa may be able to advise me." "Your grandfather! Gracious goodness, girl, you're never going to tell him?" "Yes, I shall. Grandpapa's had a lot of experience: he says so." "I should think he had!" whispered Mrs. Blunt with uplifted hands. "Good-by, Mrs. Blunt. You don't know how unhappy I am. Thanks, yes, a hansom, please. Mrs. Blunt, are you going to ask Mr. Merceron here again?"
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