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Updated: June 12, 2025
"What have you done about it, father?" he said, sharply. "I suppose you went to Meynell at once." Barron smiled, with a lift of the eyebrows. He knocked off the end of his cigarette, and paused. "Of course you have seen Meynell?" Stephen repeated. "No, I haven't." "I should have thought that was your first duty."
A woman like Alice Puttenham, a man like Meynell, were not likely to give Hester to her lover without telling that lover what he had a right to know. Small blame to them if they were not prepared to bring about that crisis prematurely, while Hester was still so young! It must be faced but not, not till it must! Yes, he understood.
"What you have expressed very finely, if I may say so is of course the mystical creed," he replied at last, with suave politeness. "But why call it Christianity?" As he spoke, he was conscious of a certain pride in himself. He felt complacently that he understood Meynell and appreciated him; and that hardly any of his colleagues would, or could have done so.
Scarcely a year had passed after this time, when several mere boys, who had entered this fatal corps with fair prospects and uncorrupted minds, were sent back to their unhappy parents with blasted characters and broken fortunes. In these sad catastrophes Meynell found a secret pleasure, strange as it was diabolical.
Tell her I'm goin' goin' fast." He fell back, panting. Meynell gave him food and medicine. Then he went quickly downstairs, and knocked at the parlour door. After an interval of evident hesitation on the part of the occupant of the room, it was reluctantly unlocked. Meynell pushed it open wide. "Mrs. Bateson come to your husband he is dying!" The woman, deadly white, threw back her head proudly.
In reply, Meynell, instead of any general argument, had gently taken the very proof offered him i.e., the vision dissecting it, the time in which it arose, and the mind in which it occurred, with a historical knowledge and a quick and tender penetration which had presently absorbed the little company of listeners, till Fenton said abruptly, with a frown of perplexity: "In that way, one might explain anything the Transfiguration for instance or Pentecost."
"All that seemed straightforward enough," said I. "Yes," replied uncle Joe; "but if Mr. Kingdon had meant fairly by Susan Meynell, it would have been as easy for him to marry her at Barngrave as in London. He was as poor as a church mouse, but he was his own master, and there was no one to prevent him doing just what he pleased.
He believed himself to have got an undertaking from his father that Meynell should be communicated with promptly perhaps that very evening. But the terms of the promise were not very clear; and the young man's mind was full of a seething wrath and unhappiness.
As the sound of men's feet in the kitchen broke in upon the hurried narrative, and Meynell was leaving the room, Alice opened her eyes. "Hester?" The pale lips just breathed the name. "We've heard of her." Meynell stooped to the questioner. "It's a real clue this time. She's not far away. But don't ask any more now. Let Mrs. Elsmere take you to bed and there'll be more news in the morning."
Meynell had raised his head with a sudden movement, and regarded her intently. "What secrets?" "I found her one day with a picture she was crying over. It it was some one she had been in love with I am certain it was a handsome, dark man. And I begged her to tell me and she just got up and went away. So then I took my own line!"
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