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Updated: June 27, 2025
Some minutes later, a servant sent to Lady Ogram's room by the retreating combatant found her mistress lying unconscious. For a day or two the lady of Rivenoak was thought to be near her end; but the struggle prolonged itself, hope was seen, and in three months' time the patient went about her garden and park in a bath chair.
Constance felt no doubt as to the person whom the bust was supposed to represent, and her disgust at what she thought the shameless flattery practised by the sculptor hardly allowed her to reply. "Of course," she said, in as even a voice as possible, "it is a portrait of Miss Tomalin." Lady Ogram's eyes shone; on the point of laughing, she restrained herself, and looked at her niece.
No need, of course, to say anything about the results of Lady Ogram's decease, but he really owed Iris a letter, just to show that he was not unmindful of her kindness. The foolish little woman had done her best for him; indeed, without her help, where would he have been now? He must pay his debt to her as soon as possible, and it would of course be necessary to speak of the matter to Constance.
I can carry out Lady Ogram's wishes the wishes she formed while still in her sound mind and to that I shall devote my life." "Do you intend, then, to apply none of this money to your personal use? Do you mean to earn your own living still?" "That would defeat Lady Ogram's purpose," was the calm answer.
They saw no harm in it. Dymchurch, it might well be, had fallen in love with the handsome girl, and it was certain that her wealth would be put to much better use in his hands than in those of the ordinary man who weds money. Lady Ogram's deliberate choice of this landless peer assuredly did her credit.
At the name of the borough member, Lady Ogram's dark eyes flashed. "Ah, Robb," interjected Lashmar. "Tell me something about Robb. I know hardly anything of him." "Picture to yourself," returned the editor, with slow emphasis, "a man who at his best was only a stolid country banker, and who now is sunk into fatuous senility.
Woolstan's eyes widened in horror. Lashmar regarded her with a smile of intense melancholy. "One thing only kept me from it. I remembered that I was in your debt, and I felt it would be too cowardly." "What has happened? Come and sit near the window; no one could hear us talking here. I have been expecting to read of your election. Is it something to do with Lady Ogram's death?
Highly imaginative stories, too, went about concerning Miss Tomalin, whom everyone assumed to be the heiress of Lady Ogram's wealth. By some undercurrent, no doubt of servant's-hall origin, the name of Lord Dymchurch had come into circulation, and the editor of the Express ventured to inquire of Lashmar whether it was true that Miss Tomalin had rejected an offer of marriage from this peer.
Gazing full at the confused face, Constance smiled, and passed on. At the door of the breakfast-room, Miss Bride was approached by Lady Ogram's maid, who in an undertone informed her that Dr. Baldwin had been sent for. Lady Ogram had passed a very bad night, but did not wish it to be made known to her guests, whom she hoped to meet at luncheon.
Seeing our friend's condition, it appeared to me that a formal engagement between us would be a kindness to her, and involve no serious consequences for us. But the case is altered. You being secure against Lady Ogram's displeasure, I have, of course, no right to ask you to take a part in such a proceeding which naturally you would feel to be unworthy of you.
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