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Updated: June 28, 2025
The old general beamed and laughed over his smartness: he was conscious of having said something that, in shape at least, was like an epigram. "I must rub up my acquaintance in that quarter," said Roscorla, "before I leave again. Fortunately, I have always kept up my club subscription; and you'll come and dine with me, Sir Percy, won't you, when I get to town?"
Roscorla at once saw through the whole affair the trip to Plymouth, the purchasing of a gypsy-ring that could have been matched a dozen times over anywhere, the return to Penzance with a cock-and-bull story about a dredging-machine. So hot was his anger that it overcame his prudence. He would start for England at once.
In desperation Mr. Roscorla got up, put on his hat and went outside, leaving her at once astonished and indignant by his want of interest in what at one time had been his only care. Was this, then, the place in which he had chosen to spend the rest of his life, without change, without movement, without interest? It seemed to him at the moment a living tomb.
"Are you going to remain in England long, Roscorla?" said the younger of the two men, making an unnecessary cut at one of the two horses he was driving. "Don't know yet. Perhaps I may." "Because," said Trelyon with angry impertinence, "I suppose if you do, you'll have to look round for a housekeeper."
Don't you find in this country enough to satisfy you?" "Indeed I do," Mr. Roscorla said, "especially within the last few days. I have enjoyed myself enormously. I shall always have a friendly recollection of Brighton." "Are you going down to Cornwall before you leave?" Sir Percy asked. "No," said he slowly. "That isn't quite so cheerful as Brighton, eh?" "Not quite." He kept his word.
"All right," said he: "the place wants waking up." "And then," said the mother, wishing to be still more gracious, "you might ask Miss Rosewarne to dine with us: she might come well enough, although Mr. Roscorla is not here." A sort of gloom fell over the young man's face again: "I can't ask her you may if you like." Mrs. Trelyon stared: "What is the matter, Harry? Have you and she quarreled?
It seemed hard that he should be badly used for what was perhaps no intentional fault. If anybody had been in fault, it was herself in being blind to a possibility to which even her own sister had drawn her attention; and so the punishment ought to fall on her. She would humble herself before Mr. Roscorla. She would force herself to be affectionate toward him in her letters.
"And perhaps you would kindly put your resolve into writing. I shall take it back to Miss Rosewarne. Will you kindly do so now?" "Why," said Roscorla rather sharply, "you don't take my proposal in a very friendly way. I imagine I am doing you a good turn too. It is not every man would do so in my position; for, after all, she treated me very badly. However, we needn't go into that.
"Certainly not," added Mabyn, who was far more uncomfortable than she chose to appear. "Who can prevent us going on? They don't lock you up in convents now-a-days. If it is Mr. Roscorla, you just let me talk to him." Their doubt on that head was soon set at rest.
"That I don't know," he said. "Of course," she said, "you don't mean to remain in the West Indies. I suppose lots of people have to go there for some object or other, but they always come back when it is attained." "They come back to attain some other object here," said Mr. Roscorla. "Then we'll soon find you that," the general burst in. "No man lives out of England who can help it.
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