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Father Foster was in the library with Lady Fitz Rewes. Would Mrs. Parflete see him? She went down, and Pensée stood watching for her at the open door. "My poor child!" she said, with a sob in her voice, as she drew Brigit into the room. "My poor child," she repeated, "Father Foster has come to tell us that that Mr. Parflete died last night."
"Oh, it isn't the duel, Pensée. He sees his way clearly. He has always tried not to see it. I, too, have tried not to see it. But all that is at an end now." "And he will renounce his career." "Everything! Everything!" Pensée threw up her hands, and left the room. Father Foster was standing under a gas-jet at the end of the corridor reading his office. He looked at Lady Fitz Rewes.
I said no more, for, by treating the matter lightly, I made them look to themselves dupes and very ridiculous. I remained at the Villa until the Archduchess and Lady Fitz Rewes departed for Paris. I had a short interview with M. de Hausée in my character of the late Archduke's Agent.
When she grew calmer, she knelt down by the body, and told them that she would watch there that night. "Madness!" exclaimed Lady Fitz Rewes. "No, no! I wish to do it." The priest stated a few objections, but she remained firm in her resolve. "He was my father's friend," she said, quietly. They both noticed that she never once referred to Parflete as her husband.
His Journal at that period contains two entries, however, which show that neither Lady Fitz Rewes nor Reckage were wrong in fearing he had received a mortal blow which no earthly influence could make endurable. Oct., 1869. I am once more at Almouth House. Beauclerk's consideration for me is almost more than I can bear. The rest is not borne.
And so from the west gate to the Southe, as the Trenche tourneth even in the verie same maner, in other ten rewes of ten lodgynges in a rewe, there shall be lodged the pikes, and extraordinarie Veliti of the aidyng mayne battailes. Their headdes or their counstables may take those lodgynges, that shal seeme unto them moste commodious, on the parte towardes the trenche.
For a second or two each of them looked away. Sara glanced toward her canaries in their cage. Prince d'Alchingen leant forward to inhale the perfume of some violets in a vase near him. "Delicious!" he murmured, "delicious!" "Mr. Disraeli," said Sara, still gazing at the birds, "has always wished for the marriage with Lady Fitz Rewes. Yet what can we do? I cannot see the end of it."
She could make herself anything, but nature had given her little more than a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth indifferent good. Lady Fitz Rewes was appalled at the transformation. Remembering stories of the last dreadful touches of consumption, she feared for the girl's health. "She will die before long," she thought. But death can occur more than once in one life.
The lie seemed to come before she had time to think of it; it tripped off her tongue as though some will, other than her own, controlled her speech. But now that the untruth was spoken she determined to abide by it, so she repeated: "It must have been Mrs. Parflete." "And suppose," said the Princess, "that she is able to prove that she spent the whole of Wednesday with Lady Fitz Rewes?
The parcel and the missive arrived when the young lady was reading and re-reading two other letters which she had received that morning from the North of France. One was from Lord Reckage; the other was from Pensée Fitz Rewes. Their respective contents ran as follows: In doubt, they tell us, we must stand on the rule of authority.
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