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Updated: May 4, 2025
No doubt, however, she had long since changed her ambitions. Sir Charles calculated her age. Resilda Mardale must be twenty-five years old and a deuced fine woman into the bargain. Sir Charles took a glance at his figure in his cheval-glass.
"So from the first my daughter was primed with the history of that siege, and lately we have had further means of knowledge " He began to speak warily and with embarrassment "For two years ago Resilda married an officer of The King's Battalion, Major Lashley." "Here are two surprises," cried Sir Charles. "For in the first place, Madam, I had no thought you were wed.
It could have sheltered every ship of his Majesty's navy. It was wife and children to me. My heart lay very close to it. I fancied indeed my heart was disrupted with the disruption of the mole, and it has at all events, lain ever since as heavy as King Charles' Chest." "Yes, I can understand that," said Resilda. Sir Charles had vowed never to speak of the matter again.
The butler, however, had no news of Major Lashley to announce. He merely presented the compliments of Mr. Gibson Jerkley who had been caught in the storm near the Quarry House and ten miles from his home. Mr. Jerkley prayed for supper and a dry suit of clothes. "And a bed too," said Resilda, with a flush of colour in her cheeks, and begging Sir Charles' permission she rose from the table.
Then he stopped, but as though the truth was meant to come to light, Resilda helped him out. "I had a dear friend buried there not so long ago," she said. "Father, you remember Mrs. Ripley." "I saw her grave this afternoon," said Fosbrook, with his eyes upon Mr. Mardale.
They walked on tiptoe down the passage to the door beneath which one bright bar of light stretched across the floor. Jerkley opened the door and looked through; Sir Charles who was the taller man looked over Jerkley's head and never were two men more surprised. In the embrasure of that door to the left of the staircase, the door behind which Resilda Lashley slept, old Mr.
Resilda was set on fire that day, and though the King and the Parliament might shut their eyes to the sore straits of that town and the gallantry of its defenders, no one was allowed to forget them in the Quarry House. To tell the truth I sometimes envied the obliviousness of Parliament," and he laughed gently.
A momentary embarrassment seemed to follow upon his words. Resilda looked at her father who chuckled and explained. "Sir, an old soldier years ago came over the hill in front of the house and begged for alms. He found my daughter on the terrace in a lucky moment for himself. He had all sorts of wonderful stories of Tangier and the great mole which was then a building.
It might have been a mere accident, it was in any case a trifling thing, the mere shaking of a hand, the spilling of a spoonful of salt upon the table, but trifling things have their suggestions. He remembered that Resilda, when she had waked up on the night of December the 11th to find herself alone, had sought out her father, who was still up, and at work in the big drawing-room.
Resilda at that time had a great ambition to be a boy. The sight of any brown bare-legged lad gipsying down the hill with a song upon his lips, would set her viciously kicking the toes of her satin slippers against the parapet of the terrace, and clamouring at her sex. Now I was not of the same mind with Resilda." "That I can well understand," said Sir Charles drily.
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