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Updated: June 20, 2025
Or, being a woman, she may have wanted an American to see her at the head of the table in two widely different settings. Perhaps it was all three motives. In preparation for the arrival of guests, 'a certain liveliness' pervaded the tranquil atmosphere of Roselawn.
'Nothing that you can say is half so bitter as my thoughts. 'I didn't mean to hurt you, she said. 'If ever a man was sincere, I was, Elise. Since I left you at Roselawn I have followed the one path, thinking there was a great light ahead. Now I am afraid that, perhaps, it was only a mirage. 'No, it wasn't, she replied vehemently.
There were 'oils' purchased by Durwents who liked to patronise the arts, and 'waters' by Durwents who didn't like oils. And year after year, generation after generation, the ancient drawing-room received its additional impedimenta without so much as a creak of protest. In the impressive seclusion of Roselawn, therefore, the house-party began to gather.
And as the heir to Roselawn went to war, so did the sons of every old family in the Island Kingdom. In something of the spirit of sport, yet carrying beneath their cheeriness the high purpose of ageless chivalry, the blue-eyed youth of Britain went out with a smile upon their lips to play their little parts in the great jest of the gods.
The mist still clung to the earth, but over the north-east tower of Roselawn he could see the sun, monstrous and red, looming with its sullen threat of heat. It was nearing the end of a breakfast that had been trying for every one. Lord Durwent's usual kindly affability was overcast by a fresh worry the non-appearance of his son Malcolm.
She gave the head-gardener the benefit of her unrestricted smile, and shed among all the retainers a bountiful largesse of good-humour. Still noting the beauties of Roselawn, they discussed their children. She learned that Malcolm was on leave from the th Hussars, and was golfing in, and yachting off, Scotland with scions of the Scottish nobility.
Not that the inhabitants of Roselawn were any more callous or selfish than others of their class, for the record of the Durwent family was by no means devoid of kindly and knightly deeds.
I waited my time. I watched Moorewell until one night I knew he was alone. I forced an entrance, and caught him in his library. . . . As I said before, I was drunk; and that's what saved his life. I thought at the time he was dead; and having no money, I caught a late train, and hid all night and next day in the woods at Roselawn.
Almost as if she desired to eradicate the memory of her emotional admission, she gave her vivacity full play. For a few minutes he tried to bring back the close intimacy of their souls, but she fenced him off, and met his heart-hungry glances with the gayest of smiles. Roselawn, she told him, had been transformed into a convalescent home, and Lord and Lady Durwent were living in one of the wings.
With half-closed eyes and drowsy semi-consciousness he heard the sounds of life growing less and less in the roomy passages of Roselawn, as his mind lingered over the burning memory of Elise's proximity a few hours before. He felt again the perfume of her hair and the radiant freshness of her womanhood, with its inexplicable sense of spring-time.
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