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Updated: June 14, 2025
Freddy Montressor, who was leaning against the wall, chuckled as Lane came in. "So they've got you, too, Dicky, have they?" he remarked. "It's a hold-up a bully one, too. Makes one feel quite homesick, eh? How much have you got on you?" "Precious little, thank heavens!" Richard muttered. His eyes were fixed upon the brigand who was collecting the jewels, and who was now approaching Miss Grex.
It was the chairman's duty to introduce the artists. "Ladies and gentlemen," he would shout, in a voice that united the musical characteristics of a foghorn and a steam saw, "Miss 'Enerietta Montressor, the popular serio-comic, will now happear."
Montressor, who had always gotten on well with her step-daughters, or to help prepare for some festivity or other for they were notable housekeepers, every one. They were all at Montressor Place for Christmas, and I got more petting than I deserved, albeit they looked after me somewhat more strictly than did Mrs.
I felt sorry overmuch to hear this, nor could I see why my new aunt should care if I went in once in a while, as had been my habit, to talk to the swallows and misplace nothing. But Mrs. Montressor saw to it that I obeyed her, and I went no more to the Red Room, but busied myself with other matters. For there were great doings at the Place and much coming and going.
"Fill up, the lot of you! Come! To our next meeting! May fortune soon smile again, and may I have another home before long as worthy a resting-place for you as this!" Bewilderment reigned. No one offered to drink the toast. It was Miss Montressor who asked the question which was on every one's lips. "What's up?" she exclaimed.
And so I came to know that neither proud Mrs. Montressor nor my good aunts, nor even my gentle mother, looked with overmuch favour on what my Uncle Hugh had done. And I did hear that Mrs. Montressor had chosen a wife for her stepson, of good family and some beauty, but that my Uncle Hugh would have none of her a thing Mrs.
So, Grandchild, the sad tale is ended, and you will not see the Red Room when you go next month to Montressor Place. The swallows still build under the eaves, though I know not if you will understand their speech as I did. The Setness of Theodosia When Theodosia Ford married Wesley Brooke after a courtship of three years, everybody concerned was satisfied.
And the name, almost any name but "Bunker Bean!" Often he wrote good ones on casual slips of paper and fancied them his; names like Trevellyan or Montressor or Delancey, with musical prefixes; or a good, short, beautiful, but dignified name like "Gordon Dane." He liked that one. It suggested something. But Bean! And Bunker Bean, at that!
So I went joyfully though my mother grieved to part with me; she had little to love save me, my father, Conrad Montressor, having been lost at sea when but three months wed.
They murmured something non-committal. Lady Hunterleys seemed as though about to pass on but Lane blocked the way. "I only arrived the other day from Algiers," he went on, making frantic efforts to continue the conversation. "I brought Freddy Montressor and his sister, and Fothergill." "Mr. Montressor has come to the Hotel de Paris," Lady Hunterleys remarked.
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