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Updated: June 15, 2025
Miss Panton murmured something about Wordsworth, obviously thinking that a more fitting topic to be discussed before a young person who was taking tea on sufferance with her betters. "Perhaps Miss Raby is like me, and doesn't care much for Wordsworth," said Laura, looking across at her guest in a very friendly fashion. "I never got beyond 'We are seven, and never wanted to."
"Miss Raby has just come with a message from Miss Wilson. I suppose you can't lend her an umbrella, Miss Armitage? I have to hurry away to the promenade with both mine. Miss Temple and Miss Panton are waiting for me there." He turned to Caroline. "I'm afraid I must hurry away. Good night." As he went off.
It was with that face she would always see Lionel Varick henceforth. There had been a moment when she had thought she would tell Dr. Panton; then she had come to the conclusion that there was no good purpose to be served by telling the strange and dreadful truth. Some noble lines of Swinburne's which had once been quoted to her by a friend she loved, floated into her mind
Panton, looking at the charming group for the lithe, dark-haired girl in her brilliant, quaint garment, and the dog over which she was bending, made a delightful group told himself grudgingly that Miss Bubbles was curiously attractive: far more attractive-looking than he would have thought her to be by the portrait published in the Sketch though even that had been sufficiently arresting to remain in his mind for two or three days.
How upset, for instance, Varick had been about Miss Pigchalke's crazy advertisement. He, Panton, had felt quite sorry that he had said anything about it. While putting on his tie, he told himself that what the dear fellow wanted now was a good, sensible second wife.
He paused and added jerkily: "I suppose you know we were to have been married to-day?" "Yes." Caroline felt the room swim round her, but she clutched the mantelpiece and kept quiet. "I came for a couple of umbrellas. She and Miss Panton are waiting under shelter in the hall. I can't stay." He spoke abruptly, uneasily. "Oh, I won't keep you."
Henry, relating all the circumstances of his honourable conduct with respect to Miss Panton his disinterestedness, decision, and energy of affection. Lord Oldborough's emotion increased he seemed to recognize some traits of his own character. "I hope this youth is my son," said his lordship, in a low suppressed voice. "He deserves to be yours, my lord," said Mr. Percy.
Erasmus felt and acknowledged the imprudence of his interference, but hoped it might be forgiven in favour of the motive and he looked so honestly glad to hear that his information was all wrong, that old Panton at the moment believed in his integrity, and said, stretching out his hand towards him, "Well, well, no harm done then it's all as it should be, and we may ring for dinner But," recurring again to his favourite idea, "you'll get the wig, doctor?"
And the ridiculous thing which touched this hidden spring in Laura was a very stale, untouched, highly ornamented cake which Miss Panton cut with fingers that trembled from eagerness so pleased and excited was she by having a visitor at last. "I rather thought I might have had a good bany callers my papa was so well down here in the old days. But there does not seeb to be anybody left."
Panton stopped short, for at this instant Constance came into the room, and her father's look of angry suspicion, and her blush, immediately explained to Erasmus what had the moment before appeared to him unintelligible.
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