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Updated: May 1, 2025
"And they tell me that he was frequently at hers!" "That poor young wife! Oh, it is shameful! The matter oughtn't to end here. Something ought to be done. If that man is allowed to keep his seat" Many were the conjectures put forward and discussed throughout the day, but this of Mrs. Mumbray's started of course in several quarters found readiest acceptance in Conservative circles. Mrs.
Polterham must no longer repose in the security of conscious virtue, for if it did happen that, at the coming election, the unprincipled multitude even came near to achieving a triumph, oh what a fall were there! Thus spoke the Mercury. And in the same week Mr. Mumbray's vacant house was secured by a provisional committee on behalf of the Polterham Constitutional Literary Society.
In a committee-room at the Constitutional Literary Society was held an informal meeting of Conservatives, but no one of them had definite intelligence to communicate. Somebody had told somebody else that Hugh Welwyn-Baker held that important telegram from his father; that was all. Mr. Mumbray's hopes rose high. Mr. Mumbray and his supporters held high language.
Prior to the outbreak of Revivalism no one had supposed her particularly pious, and, indeed, she had often suffered Mrs. Mumbray's rebukes for levity of speech and indifference to the conventional norm of feminine behaviour.
He had desired no such thing, said Mr. Vialls, but the pressure of friends was irresistible. In private, meanwhile, he spoke fiercely against the Radical candidate, and never with such acrimony as in Mrs. Mumbray's drawing-room when Serena was present. One afternoon he stood up, tea-cup in hand, and, as his habit was, delivered a set harangue on the burning topic.
Scatchard Vialls, hitherto active in defamation of Quarrier, with amiable inconsistency refused to believe him guilty of conduct which had driven his wife to suicide. It was some days before the rumour reached his ears. Since the passage of arms with Serena, he had held aloof from Mrs. Mumbray's drawing-room, and his personality did not invite the confidence of ordinary scandal-mongers.
It is really very strange!" Mrs. Mumbray vouchsafed further information. "I understood that she came from Stockholm." "Didn't I say she came from Denmark?" interrupted Mrs. Tenterden, triumphantly. There was a pause of uncertainty broken by Serena Mumbray's quiet voice. "Dear Mrs. Tenterden, Stockholm is not in Denmark, but in Sweden. And we are told that Mrs.
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