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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Let me give you another cup of tea, Muriel." "The old house looks most picturesque by moon-light," observed Lord Painswick. "I was quite fascinated by it the other night." "There is a full moon now," Gifford said. "We will stroll round and admire when we leave." "Don't stroll over the edge of the haha as I very nearly did one night," Morriston said laughingly.
"Is there any theory to account for his disappearance?" "No," Kelson answered, "unless a discreditable one. Gone off at a tangent." "And still in his evening things?" Painswick said with a laugh. "Rather uncomfortable this weather." "That reminds me," Morriston said with sudden animation, "one of the footmen brought me a fur coat and a soft hat this morning and asked me if they were mine.
"Then they must be his," Morriston concluded. "And where is he without them?" Painswick added with a laugh. "Dead of cold?" "It is altogether quite mysterious," Morriston observed with a puzzled air. "He can't be here still." "Hardly," his sister replied. "You know him?" she asked Kelson. "Quite casually.
"When it lies in the shadow of the house it is a regular trap." "Moonlight has its dangers as well as its beauties," Painswick murmured sententiously. "The friendly cloak of night is apt to trip one up," Gifford added. As he spoke the words there came a startling little cry from Miss Tredworth accompanied by the crash and clatter of falling crockery.
"Miss Morriston looked well to-night," Gifford remarked, falling in with his friend's wish to postpone the more engrossing subject. "Yes," Kelson agreed casually. "She takes this ghastly business quietly enough. But that is her way." "I have been wondering," Gifford said, "how much she cares for Painswick. He is manifestly quite smitten, but I doubt her being nearly as keen on him."
He soon encountered Kelson coming out of a gaily decorated passage which he knew led to the old tower. He had a pretty girl on his arm, tall and fair, but with none of Miss Morriston's dignified coldness. This girl had a sunny, laughing face, and Gifford thought he understood why his friend had not been enthusiastic over the probable Lady Painswick.
From Epworth John Wesley rode on to Sheffield, and then southward through Coventry, Evesham and Painswick to Bristol, preaching as he went, sometimes thrice a day: from Bristol to Cardiff and back; and so, on Sunday evening, July 18th, towards London. On Tuesday morning he dismounted by the door of the Foundry, having left it just two months before.
When I go down the Gloucester lanes My friends are deaf and blind: Fast as they turn their foolish eyes The Maenads leap behind, And when I hear the fire-winged feet, They only hear the wind. Have I not chased the fluting Pan, Through Cranham's sober trees? Have I not sat on Painswick Hill With a nymph upon my knees, And she as rosy as the dawn, And naked as the breeze?
"Now I come to think of it I don't recollect seeing anything of the man after quite the first part of the evening. Did you, Painswick?" "No, can't say I did," Painswick answered. "And," observed Kelson, "he was not a man to be easily overlooked when he was on show. I missed him, not altogether disagreeably, after the early dances." "What is the idea?" Edith Morriston inquired.
"Rather too cold and statuesque for my taste, although I have heard she has a bit of the devil in her. Quite a sportswoman, and as good after hounds as her brother. They say she had a thin time of it with her step-mother, and has come out wonderfully since the old lady died. Lord Painswick, who lives near here, is supposed to be very sweet on her. Perhaps the affair will develop to-night.
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