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Updated: June 18, 2025
Something had restored animation to her manner and malice to her eyes; those who knew her well would have conjectured that she saw her way to making somebody uncomfortable. But there was also an underlying nervousness which seemed to hint at something beyond. Much pleased, yet vaguely disappointed, Mr Neeld concluded that she had no more to say about the visit to Heidelberg.
"I remember old Cholderton very well. He was a starchy old chap, but he knew his subjects. Makes rather heavy reading, I should think, eh?" "Not all of it, not by any means all of it," Neeld assured him. "He doesn't confine himself to business matters." "Still, even old Joe Cholderton's recreations " "He was certainly mainly an observer, but he saw some interesting things and people."
She couldn't stand a downright ugly man at Blent, you know. I've a sort of notion" he seemed to forget Neeld, and looked at Mina for sympathy "that she thinks she'll be able to come and have a look at Blent and me in it, all the same." His smile took a whimsical turn as he spoke of his mother's dying fancies.
To him enter disturbers of peace. "How are you, Neeld?" said Lord Southend, taking the chair next him. "Sit down here, Iver. Let me introduce you Mr Iver Mr Neeld. Bill of fare, waiter." His lordship smiled rather maliciously at Mr Neeld as he made the introduction, which Iver acknowledged with bluff courtesy, Neeld with a timid little bow.
That contents him well enough, though. Oh, yes, I shall go. The Broadleys won't care about me, and Cecily won't want me long." Neeld could give real comfort only at the price of indiscretion. Moreover he was not at all sure that a disclosure of the truth would bring any comfort, for Mina wanted to be on both sides and to harmonize devotion to Cecily with zeal for Harry.
Her father had gone to London on business showing, to Mr Neeld's relief, no disposition to take the Journal with him to read on the way Neeld was absurdly nervous about the Journal now. Her mother was engrossed in a notable scheme which Miss Swinkerton had started for the benefit of the poor of Blentmouth.
They understood one another now. Neeld made no further pretence. "You mean about Harry Tristram?" he asked, simply, but in a low voice. "Yes. At first I didn't know what it meant to him. But I know now." Neeld made no reply, and there was another moment of silence.
I have just returned to England. For two months I have been out of the way of receiving letters or newspapers. I went to the Imperium Club to-night I arrived only this morning and dined in Neeld's company. As it chanced, we spoke of you, and I learnt what has happened since I left England. I have lost no time in calling on you." Neeld was listening and fidgeting with his sheets of paper.
"I will know," she said excitedly, almost angrily. Neeld came to a stand opposite her, deep perplexity expressing itself in his look and manner. "Did he talk about us? Did he talk about Lady Tristram?" "I am speaking to you, and to you only, Madame Zabriska?" "Yes, yes to me only." "He did mention you, and he did speak of Lady Tristram."
"You don't look very merry, Miss Janie," he said, smiling at her and achieving a plausible jocularity. "Why should I, Mr Neeld?" She glanced at him. "Oh, has father told you anything?" "Yes, that you're engaged. You know how truly I desire your happiness, my dear." With a pretty courtesy the old man took her hand and kissed it, baring his gray hair the while. "You're very, very kind.
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