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Updated: June 15, 2025
Peabody ran back and said a word in his ear. "I gave him your name," he said briefly, in answer to Raeburn's interrogative look, when he returned, "and told him what we were after. The street is not quite as bad as it was; and there are little oases of respectability in it you would never expect. But there is plenty of the worst thieving and brutality left in it still.
So much, so very much depended on this interview, and already the prospect seemed far from hopeful. "I should like to see some of your work," observed Mr. Bircham. "How long have you been in the habit of writing in Mr. Raeburn's organ?" "For the last five years," said Erica. Mr. Bircham lifted his shaggy eyebrows at this, for Erica looked even younger than she really was.
"Sir," he said, with the ring of real and deep feeling in his voice, "sir, believe me, if I had known what bringing this subpoena meant, I would sooner have lost my situation!" Raeburn's face relaxed; he spoke a few courteous, dignified words, accepting with a sort of unspoken gratitude the man's regret, and in a few moments dismissing him.
Charles Osmond heard her explaining his visit and the news he had brought, heard Raeburn's brief responses; then, in a few moments, the two entered the room, a picturesque looking couple, the clergyman thought; the tall, stately man, with his broad forehead and overshadowing masses of auburn hair; the little eager-faced, impetuous girl, so winsome in her unconventional frankness.
A curious uncertainty and unreality, moreover, seemed to have crept into some of their relations; and it had begun to gall and fever him that Wharton should be staying there, week after week, beside her, in her father's house, able to spend all the free intervals of the fight in her society, strengthening an influence which Raeburn's pride and delicacy had hardly allowed him as yet, in spite of his instinctive jealousy from the beginning, to take into his thoughts at all, but which was now apparent, not only to himself but to others.
And that Marcella, who had been living and moving amid these woods and lanes all this time that foolish girl, delighting in new grandeurs, and flattered by Aldous Raeburn's attentions that hot, ambitious person who had meant to rule a county through a husband what had become of her?
Adam Rolland, Principal Clerk of Session, a nephew of Adam Rolland of Gask, who was in some respects the prototype of Pleydell, and whose face and figure have been made familiar to the present generation by Raeburn's masterpiece of portraiture, now in the possession of Miss Abercrombie, Edinburgh. Sir Walter had written to Mr.
One lady had seen her night gown thrown out of the window, and had managed adroitly to catch it; some one else on rushing up to find his purse had been deluged by the fire engine, and Raeburn's story of the little German boy excited great interest. The visitors were inclined to make a hero of him. Once, when he had left the room, Erica heard a discussion about him with no little amusement.
She went softly down the dark staircase to Raeburn's study; it was late, and, anxious not to disturb the rest of the house, she opened the door noiselessly and crept in. Her father was sitting at his desk writing; he looked very stern, but there was a sort of grandeur about his rugged face.
"My name is Thomlinson and I am a friend of Mr. Raeburn's." "Indeed?" said Mr. Rolles. "The likeness is amazing." Mr. Raeburn, who had been upon thorns throughout this colloquy, now felt it high time to bring it to a period. "I wish you a pleasant saunter, sir," said he. And with that he dragged Harry after him into the house, and then into a chamber on the garden.
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