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I was accompanying him, and I am afraid it was my fault. Anyhow, he didn't finish his song. And then we missed him. He had asked the butler to let him lie down somewhere, and uncle found him in his bedroom. I hope it's nothing serious." "Oh, my dear girl," said Mrs. Prockter, regaining somewhat her natural demeanour in a laugh, "if it's only one of Emanuel's singing breakdowns, we needn't worry.
"A straight question deserves a straight answer. I'm not given to curiosity as a rule, but what is Emanuel Prockter doing on my bed?" "Emanuel Prockter on your bed!" Helen repeated, blankly. He saw that she was suffering from genuine surprise. "On my bed!" he insisted. The butler appeared, having heard the inquiry from below. He explained that Mr.
Perhaps the most striking portion of the scenery was Helen's peignoir. He had not before witnessed her in a peignoir. The effect of it was agreeable; but, indeed, the modern taste for luxury was incredible! He wondered if Mrs. Prockter practised similar extravagances. While such notions ran through his head he was hurrying to the stairs, and dropping a hail of candle-grease on the floor.
Prockter a Saturday afternoon on which he had foregone, on account of a woman, his customary match at bowls this afternoon was drawing to a close in a manner which piled thrilling event on thrilling event. Mrs. Butt had departed. For unnumbered years Mrs. Butt had miscooked his meals. The little house was almost inconceivable without Mrs. Butt. And Mrs. Butt had departed.
"Yes," he repeated, with smiling inanity, after he had shaken hands. "Mother thought I might help you." "And what did you think, Mr. Prockter?" Helen demanded. "Another cup and saucer, Georgiana." Helen's question was one of her insolent questions. Emanuel sniffed humour in the air.
Prockter herself hasn't got more style than this." Helen soon settled down into a condition of ease, which put an end to blushing. She knew she was admired. "What are you doing i' Bosley?" James demanded. "I'm living i' Bosley," she retorted, smartly. "Living here!" He stopped, and his hard old heart almost stopped too. If not in mourning, she was in semi-mourning.
Prockter as indifferently as he would have gone by a policeman or a lamp-post. As for Emanuel, James held him in mild, benignant contempt. But when, as the two pairs approached one another, James perceived Emanuel furtively shifting his gold-headed cane from his right hand to his left, and then actually raise his hat to Helen, James swiftly lost his indifference.
His wizened body shrank; and he was not sure that his pride was quite unhurt. Mrs. Prockter noticed this. "Oh!" she resumed, with undiminished vivacity, "it's not because I think your niece isn't good enough for Emanuel; it's because I think she's a great deal too good! And yet it isn't that, either. The truth is, Mr. Ollerenshaw, I'm a purely selfish woman.
"You know that Emanuel is here?" said Helen, with her most diplomatic and captivating smile. But Mrs. Prockter did not know. "I thought Mr. Ollerenshaw wanted me," Mrs. Prockter explained, "so I came as quickly as I could." "It was I who wanted to speak to you," said Helen. "The truth is that Emanuel is lying on uncle's bed, unwell or something, and he expressed a wish to see you.
So she joined him. Then a string of young people passed the end of the side-hall, and among them was Jos Swetnam, who capered up to the old couple on her long legs. "Oh, Mrs. Prockter," she cried, "what a pity we can't dance on the lawn!" "I wish you could, my dear," said Mrs. Prockter. "And why can't ye?" demanded James. "No music!" said Jos. "You see," Mrs.
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