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Updated: June 10, 2025
Then Tristram remembered that he had addressed the telegram to Montfitchet, and Ethelrida would, of course, he now recollected, be at Glastonbury House, as she was coming up that day so he went to the door and called out: "Michelham, bring me back the telegram."
Emily Guiscard would have Sir James Danvers and Lord Coltshurst as neighbors, and Mary her uncle, the Duke's brother, a widower, Lord Charles Montfitchet, and his son, "Young Billy," the Glastonbury heir Lady Ethelrida was the Duke's only child. At a quarter before eight Francis Markrute went up to his niece's sitting-room.
And when they were used to one another at the end of the week there would be the party at Montfitchet where he would have the joy and pride of showing his beautiful wife and Laura would be there; he suddenly thought of her. Poor old Laura! she had been awfully nice about it and had written him the sweetest letter.
Meanwhile he must fight his ghosts alone. And what ghosts they were! Now on this Saturday morning Francis Markrute was obliged to leave his niece. His vast schemes required his attention in Berlin and he would be gone for a week, and then was going down to Montfitchet. Ethelrida had written Zara the kindest letters.
You ought to go and rest until dinner when, please be very magnificent and wear some of the jewels part of them have come down from London on purpose, I think, beyond those you had at Montfitchet." "Yes, I will," she answered, listlessly, and began to pour out the tea, while he sat quite still staring into the fire, a look of utter weariness and discouragement upon his handsome face.
"My dear Jane," replied the Duke, "it is the greatest puzzle in the world; no one can account for it. I gave him some sound advice at Montfitchet, when I saw things were so strained, and I don't believe he has taken it, by the look of them to-night. These young, modern people are so unnaturally cold, though I did hear they had got through the rejoicings, in fine style."
In spite of her grief and her numbness to other things it gave her a sharp emotion. She opened it quickly and read its few cold words. Then it seemed as if her knees gave way under her, as at Montfitchet that day when Laura Highford had made her jealous. She could not think clearly, nor fully understand their meaning; only one point stood out distinctly.
And inwardly the sense of some unknown undercurrent that might grow into a rushing torrent made itself felt, stronger than before. Meanwhile Lady Coltshurst, who could just see Zara's profile all the time when she put up those irritating, longhandled glasses of hers, now gave her opinion of the bride-elect to Lord Charles Montfitchet, her neighbor on the left hand.
He was a fairly tall man, and distinguished looking. He came forward and said: "How do you do," through the brougham window. Alas! his niece had left that morning en route for Paris trousseaux and feminine business, but he was so delighted to have had this chance of a few words with her Lady Ethelrida. "I was leaving a note to ask you to come and shoot with my father at Montfitchet, Mr.
Lady Ethelrida Montfitchet had kept house for her father, the Duke of Glastonbury, ever since she was sixteen when her mother had died, and she acted as hostess at the ducal parties, with the greatest success. She was about twenty-five now, and one of the sweetest of young women. She was very tall, rather plain, and very distinguished. Francis Markrute thought her beautiful.
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