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Updated: June 22, 2025
The man with the red moustaches laughed; the sound was queer at once so genial and so sardonic. "Well put!" he said: "And far be it from me to gainsay. But since compromise is the very essence of politics, high-priests of caste and authority, like you, Lord Miltoun, are every bit as much out of it as any Liberal professor." "I don't agree!"
They parted with another tranquil look, which seemed to say: 'It is well with us we have drunk of happiness. And in this same amazing calm Miltoun remained after he had gone away, till about half-past nine in the evening, he started forth, to walk down to the House. It was now that sort of warm, clear night, which in the country has firefly magic, and even over the Town spreads a dark glamour.
"Am I right in thinking that it was my young sister who sent you on this crusade?" Courtier did not answer. "And so," Miltoun went on, looking him through and through; "to-morrow is to be your last day, too? Well, you're right to go. She is not an ugly duckling, who can live out of the social pond; she'll always want her native element. And now, we'll say goodbye!
Not even Courtier himself could have put such whip-lash sting into the word 'miserable. He answered: "Oh! take no notice of that. Let them stew in their own juice. She won't care." Miltoun listened, not moving a muscle of his face. "Your friends here," went on Courtier with a touch of contempt, "seem in a flutter. Don't let them do anything, don't let them say a word.
The same afternoon she came, but without Miltoun, driving up from the station in a fly. Lord Dennis met her at the gate; and, having kissed her, looked at her somewhat anxiously, caressing his white peaked beard. He had never yet known Babs sick of anything, except when he took her out in John Bogle's boat.
Courtier thought of Miltoun and his mistress. By what a strange fate had those two been thrown together; to what end was their love coming? The seeds of grief were already sown, what flowers of darkness, or of tumult would come up?
He knows her, too and, one can only hope, for Miltoun's sake, too well an attractive person, with red moustaches, rather nice and mad. Bertie has just come down; I must get him to have a talk with Miltoun, and see if he cant find out how the land lies. One can trust Bertie he's really very astute.
At lunch, the only allusion to the situation had been Harbinger's inquiry: "When does Miltoun return?" He had wired, it seemed, to say that he was motoring down that night. "The sooner the better," Sir William murmured: "we've still a fortnight." But all had felt from the tone in which he spoke these words, how serious was the position in the eyes of that experienced campaigner.
Accustomed to women over the best of whom, for all their grace and lack of affectation, high-caste life had wrapped the manner which seems to take all things for granted there was a peculiar charm for Miltoun in this soft, dark-eyed lady who evidently lived quite out of the world, and had so poignant, and shy, a flavour.
And the contrast of his burning hand with this frozen silence, frightened Barbara horribly. She could think of nothing but to put her other hand to his forehead. That too was burning hot! "What brought you here?" he said. She could only murmur: "Oh! Eusty! Are you ill?" Miltoun took hold of her wrists. "It's all right, I've been working too hard; got a touch of fever."
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