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Updated: May 14, 2025
And there were other places as fine, and finer places he had never seen, Oswyth, Hurst, and Towers, all Walderhurst's all belonging to this one respectable, elderly muff. Thus he summed up the character of his relative. As for himself he was young, strong, and with veins swelling with the insistent longing for joyful, exultant life.
The fact that his chances were good for becoming Marquis of Walderhurst and taking her home to a life of English luxury and splendour was a thing she never forgot. It haunted her in her sleep. She had often dreamed of Oswyth Castle and of standing amidst great people on the broad lawns her husband had described feelingly during tropical days when they had sat together panting for breath.
Hester had been in England four years, and Lord Oswyth had a brother as robust as himself, when one heavenly summer afternoon, as the two women sat on the lawn drinking little cups of tea, Hester made a singular revelation, and made it without moving a muscle of her small countenance. "I always intended to tell you, Emily," she began quietly, "and I will tell you now."
"The head nurse wished to know if your ladyship would be so good as to see Lord Oswyth before he goes to sleep." Walderhurst turned his head towards the man. Lord Oswyth was the name of his son. He felt a shock. "I will come to the nursery," answered Lady Maria. "You have not seen him yet?" turning to Walderhurst. "How could I?" "Then you had better come now.
I wonder if I shall go with her to Oswyth Castle first, or to Mowbray, or to Hurst?" "My word!" said Mrs. Cupp, "you are in luck, Jane, being as you'd rather be a lady's maid than live private in Chichester. You needn't go out to service, you know. Your uncle's always ready to provide for you."
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