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Updated: June 20, 2025
They had been settled at Hampstead three weeks, when information reached them that Mr. Denyer was dead of yellow fever. On the day when this news came, the house received no less important a visitor than Mr. Musselwhite. Long ago, Mrs.
If the neighbour happened to be uninformed in things Neapolitan, Mr. Musselwhite seized the occasion to explain at length the meteorologic significance of these varying fumes. Luncheon over, he rose like one who is summoned to a painful duty; in fact, the great task of the day was before him the struggle with time until the hour of dinner.
"She has recently married Mr. Musselwhite, who was also one of our old acquaintances. Mrs. Travis the lady who tells me all this says that Mrs. Denyer is overjoyed at this marriage, for Mr. Musselwhite is the brother of a baronet!" "Very satisfactory indeed. Well, now for Mr. Marsh. Edward heard from Mr. Bradshaw when we were in Sicily, and this young gentleman had a great part in the letter.
"It's good of you to come and sit here while she rests. She hasn't gone to bed for two nights. She's the only one of us that cares for me. Barbara has got her husband; well, I'm glad of that. And there's no knowing; she might live to be Lady Musselwhite. Sir Roland hasn't any children. Doesn't it make you laugh?" She herself tried to laugh a ghostly sound. It seemed to exhaust her.
Musselwhite never spoke of coming to Southampton; his letters ended with "Sincere regards to Miss Denyer and the other young ladies," but they contained nothing that was more to the point. He wrote about the weather chiefly. Arrived in London, Mrs. Denyer at once sent an invitation, and to her annoyance this remained unanswered. To-day the explanation was forthcoming; Mr.
Musselwhite had been on a journey, and by some mistake the letter had only come into his hands when he returned. He was most gentlemanly in his expressions of condolement with the family in their distress; he sat with them, moreover, much longer than was permissible under the circumstances by the code of society. And on going, he begged to be allowed to see them frequently that was all.
It was his habit now a new habit came as a blessing of Providence to Mr. Musselwhite on passing into the drawing-room after dinner, to glance towards a certain corner, and, after slow, undecided "tackings," to settle in that direction. There sat Barbara Denyer. Her study at present was one of the less-known works of Silvio Pellico, and as Mr.
'That's Mr. Musselwhite, I thought. He has been here a long time, and now I understand. You needn't tell me." "But there's a good deal to tell that you can't have found out, quick as you are." And she related the circumstances. Madeline listened with her eyes on the ceiling. "We shall be married very soon," Barbara added; "as soon as a house can be chosen.
Three stories was Mr. Musselwhite in the habit or telling, scintillating fragments of his blissful youth; one was of a fox-cub and a terrier; another of a heifer that went mad; the third, and the most thrilling, of a dismissed coachman who turned burglar, and in the dead of night fired shots at old Sir Grant and his sons. In relating these anecdotes, his eye grew moist and his throat swelled. Mr.
"But my father has just arrived from Alexandria, and for family reasons wishes us to travel on with him." Mr. Musselwhite seemed to reflect anxiously. He curled his moustaches, he plucked his whiskers, he looked about the room with wide eyes. "How lonely it will be at the dinner-table!" he said at length. "So many have gone of late. But I hoped there was no danger of your going, Miss Denyer."
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