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Updated: May 20, 2025
It suddenly occurred to Honora, as she glanced around the yacht, that Mrs. Rindge rather haunted her. "So that is your answer," said Chiltern, when they were alone again. "What other can I give you?" "Is it because you are married?" he demanded. She grew crimson. "Isn't that an unnecessary question?" "No," he declared. "It concerns me vitally to understand you.
"We tried our best to get a man for you," said Mrs. Rindge to Honora. "Didn't we, Abby? But in the little time we had, it was impossible. The only man we saw was Ned Carrington, and Hugh said he didn't think you'd want him." "Hugh showed a rare perception," said Honora. Be it recorded that she smiled.
Wilder married Miss Tryphosa Jewett, daughter of Dr. Stephen Jewett, of Rindge, a lady of great personal attractions. She died on a visit to that town, July 21, 1831, leaving four children. On the twenty-ninth of August, 1833, Mr.
"I hope you're glad to see us, and that you'll forgive our coming so informally. You must blame Hugh. We've brought Adele." The second lady was, indeed, none other than Mrs. Eustace Rindge, formerly Mrs. Dicky Farnham. And she is worth even at this belated stage in our chronicle an attempted sketch, or at least an attempted impression.
Kame was of opinion that the sooner it was over with the better. All women were born to be disillusionized. Such was the key, at any rate, to the lady's conduct that evening at dinner, when she capped the anecdotes of Mr. Pembroke and Mrs. Rindge and even of Chiltern with others not less risque but more fastidiously and ingeniously suggestive. The reader may be spared their recital.
She did not remark the young lawyer's smile, which revealed a greater knowledge of the world than one would have suspected. He said nothing, however. "Three years!" she repeated. "Why, it can't be, Mr. Wentworth. There are the Waterfords she was Mrs. Boutwell, you remember. And and Mrs. Rindge it was scarcely a year before "
They say Dicky was half dead with fright, and wanted to put in anywhere. Chiltern sent him below and kept right on. He has a devil in him, I believe. By the way, that's Dicky Farnham's ex-wife he's talking to Adele. She keeps her good looks, doesn't she? What's happened to Rindge?" "Left him on the other side, I hear," said Carrington. "Perhaps she'll take Chiltern next.
At last Honora was able to gain her own room, but even seclusion, though preferable to the companionship of her guests, was almost intolerable. The tragedy of Mrs. Rindge had served if such a thing could be to enhance her own; a sudden spectacle of a woman in a more advanced stage of desperation. Would she, Honora, ever become like that?
She tried to compose herself, that she might be able to present comprehensively to his finite masculine mind the ache of today. "Hugh, it's that black horse." She could not bring herself to pronounce the name Mrs. Rindge had christened him. "What about him?" he said, putting on his waistcoat. "Don't ride him!" she pleaded. "I I'm afraid of him I've been afraid of him ever since that day.
"Is tea ready?" inquired Mrs. Kame. "I'm famished." And, as they walked through the house to the garden, where the table was set beside the stone seat: "I don't see how you ever can leave this place, Honora. I've always wanted to come here, but it's even more beautiful than I thought." "It's very beautiful," said Honora. "I'll have a whiskey and soda, if I may," announced Mrs. Rindge.
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