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Updated: September 16, 2025
Catherine had been dropped out of his calculation as to Elsmere's future, at a very early stage. The following afternoon Robert, coming home from a round, found Catherine out, and a note awaiting him from the Hall. 'Can you and Mrs. Elsmere come in to tea? wrote the squire. 'Madame de Netteville is here, and one or two others.
The great man laughed, shrugged his shoulders, and ran lightly through a string of stories in which both missionaries and converts played parts which were either grotesque or worse. Madame de Netteville thought the stories amusing, and as one ceased she provoked another, her black eyes full of a dry laughter, her white hand lazily plying her great ostrich fan. Suddenly a figure rose behind them.
M. de Quérouelle, having talked the best of his repertoire at dinner, was now inclined for amusement, and had discovered that Lady Aubrey could amuse him, and was, moreover, une belle personne. Madame de Netteville, was obliged to give some time to Lord Rupert.
Nature and feeling are enough for me. I saw you wanting sympathy and affection 'My wife! cried Robert, hearing nothing but that one word. And then, his glance sweeping over the woman before him, he made a stern step forward. 'Let me go, Madame de Netteville, let me go, or I shall forget that you are a woman and I a man, and that in some way I cannot understand my own blindness and folly
But when the softness and the grace were all lost in smart and humiliation, when the Madame de Netteville of ordinary life disappeared, and something took her place which was like a coarse and malignant underself suddenly brought into the light of day from that point onwards, in after days, he remembered it all.
Wendover, and the love-scene with Madame de Netteville, which, like those other exciting passages, really furthers the development of the proper ethical interests of the book. The Oxford episodes strike us as being not the author's strongest work, as being comparatively conventional, coming, as they do, in a book whose predominant note is reality.
The other men stood chatting politics and the latest news, till Robert, conscious of a complete failure of social energy, began to took at his watch. Instantly Madame de Netteville glided up to him. 'Mr. Elsmere, you have talked no business to me, and I must know how nay affairs in Elgood Street are getting on.
'My Sundays are too precious to me just now, Madame de Netteville. Besides, my firm conviction is that the upper class can produce a Brook Farm, but nothing more.
The idea that Madame de Netteville had tried her arts upon him was not without its piquancy. But while Robert was answering a question, he was aware of a subtle change in the Squire's attitude-a relaxation of his own sense of tension. After a minute he bent forward, peering through the darkness.
But whether from oblivion, or from some instinct of grim humor toward Catherine, whom he had always vaguely disliked, the Squire said not one word about his wife to Robert, in the course of their talk of Madame de Netteville. Catherine took pains with her dress, sorely wishing to do Robert credit. She put on one of the gowns she had taken to Murewell when she married.
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