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Updated: June 18, 2025
Are you mad? Or or do you mean it?" "Don't you think both may be true?" asked Harry. Cecily's gravity broke down. She kissed Mina again, laughing in an abandonment of exultation. "Oh, you're both mad!" "Not at all. You're judging us by the standard of your other engaged couple to-night." "Did Mr Neeld know anything about your coming?" Mina demanded, with a sudden recollection. "Nothing at all.
"That's why you weren't surprised when I told you he called me the Imp!" She smiled a moment, and Neeld smiled too. But in an instant she was eager again. "And about Lady Tristram?" "It was no use reprinting poor Lady Tristram's story." He sat down again, trying to look as though the subject were done with; but he rubbed his hands together nervously and would not meet Mina's eyes.
"And, as I say, it's all very satisfactory." He shrugged his shoulders and relighted his cigar. He was decidedly a reasonable man, thought Neeld. The evening came Neeld had been impatient for it and they drove over to Blent, where Bob was to meet them. "It's a fine place for a girl to have," said Iver, stirred to a sudden sense of the beauty of the old house as it came into view.
"The thing is nothing more nor less than an imputation on the legitimacy of the son and heir!" That same afternoon he went over to the Imperium to vote at the election of members. It struck him as one of the small coincidences of life that among the candidates who faced the ballot was a Colonel Wilmot Edge, R.E. "Any relation, I wonder?" mused Mr Neeld as he dropped in an affirmative ball.
On her death-bed Addie Tristram had exerted her charm once more and over her own son. Once more a man, whatever his own position, thought mainly of her and that man was her son. Did Neeld see this? To Neeld it came as the strongest reinforcement to the feelings which bade him hold his peace. It seemed an appeal to him, straight from the death-bed in the valley below.
She flung it across to Iver and rested her chin on her hands, while her eyes followed his expression as he read. Duplay was all excitement, but old Mr Neeld had sunk back in his chair with a look of fretful weariness. Iver was deliberate; his glasses needed some fitting on; the sheet of paper required some smoothing after its contact with Mina's disordered and disordering hair.
"And I'm bound to say that I consider our position most embarrassing." Mr Neeld spoke with some warmth, with some excuse too perhaps. To welcome a newly married couple home may be thought always to require some tact; when it is a toss-up whether they will not part again for ever under your very eyes the situation is not improved.
"It's not the end if there's a next thing," Neeld suggested timidly. "Oh, don't be tiresome. The next thing'll be some stupid girl for him and some idiot of a man for her. How I wish I'd never come to Merrion!" "Don't despair; things may turn out better than you think." "They can't," she declared fretfully. "I shall go away." "What a pity!
"As soon as ever Edge comes back, I shall draw his attention to the curry." Everybody else had rather lost their interest in the subject. Neeld and Harry were in conversation. Iver sat down by Southend, and, while lunch was preparing, endeavored to distract his mind by giving him a history of the morning. Southend too was concerned in Blinkhampton.
"These concealments lead to such complications," he complained. He was thinking, no doubt, of the Iver engagement and the predicament in which it had landed him. "I don't ask it on my own account. There's my cousin." "Yes, yes, Neeld, there's the lady too." "Well, Edge, if you're satisfied, I can't stand out. For a week then silence." "Absolute!" said Harry. "Without a look or a word?"
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