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Updated: May 13, 2025
She glanced at him timidly, and turned a few pages of her book. 'I wanted her to come to Quarmby's, because there'll be a man there who is anxious that Jedwood should start a magazine, and it would be useful for her to hear practical opinions. There'd be no harm if you just spoke to her about it now and then. Of course if she has made up her mind to refuse me it's no use troubling myself any more.
Still, Quarmby's story had not been without foundation; it was true that the proprietor of The Study had for a moment thought of Alfred Yule, doubtless as the natural contrast to Clement Fadge, whom he would have liked to mortify if the thing were possible. But counsellors had proved to Mr Rackett the disadvantages of such a choice.
When Sunday came, Yule inquired of his daughter if she had any engagement for the afternoon. 'Yes, I have, she replied, with an effort to disguise her embarrassment. 'I'm sorry. I thought of asking you to come with me to Quarmby's. Shall you be away through the evening? 'Till about nine o'clock, I think. 'Ah! Never mind, never mind.
Marian had begun to explain her reluctance to base any hopes on Mr Quarmby's prediction, when the sound of a postman's knock at the house-door caused her mother to disappear for a moment. 'It's for you, said Mrs Yule, returning. 'From the country. Marian took the letter and examined its address with interest. 'It must be one of the Miss Milvains. Yes; Dora Milvain.
He spent a gloomy hour in the study, then went off to join the literary circle at Mr Quarmby's. Occasionally Milvain met his sisters as they came out of church on Sunday morning, and walked home to have dinner with them. He did so to-day, though the sky was cheerless and a strong north-west wind made it anything but agreeable to wait about in open spaces.
Yule stopped in the act of mastication. He fixed his eyes intently on the sirloin for half a minute; then, by way of the beer-jug and the salt-cellar, turned them upon Marian's face. 'Walker told him that? Pooh! 'It was a great secret. I wasn't to breathe a word to any one but you. 'Walker's a fool and Quarmby's an ass, remarked her father.
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